The Lost Son
by cindy123
Summary: Harsh words spoken/Runaway Sam. Trouble ensues. Will the Winchesters find Sam before it's too late? Hurt/Limp Sam;Worried/Protective Family. Helpful Bobby and Caleb. Finalist for favorite flashback fanfic 2008 SN.tv awards. A/U story. Abuse of a minor
1. Chapter 1

**Okay folks, here is my next story. This one is called The Lost Son. It was nominiated and was a finalist for favorite flashback fanfic in the 2008 awards. It is an A/U story as there is a third brother. I know, I know you hate third sibling stories and I usually do too, because in all the ones I have started to read the third sibling is the focus of the story. That is not the case here and Daniel was quite well received when I originally posted this. I hope you will give it a chance. Thanks very much.**

**Cindy.**

**John and Dean are a bit uh...well...not so nice in the first and second chapters. That will change, I promise.**

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Summary: After an argument, harsh and somewhat cruel words are spoken that drive Sam to run away. His journey is exactly what you would expect for the youngest Winchester. There will be mention of and appearances by Bobby, Caleb, and Pastor Jim. I hope you enjoy.

The only characters that belong to me are Daniel Winchester and Alisa Chambers, and the other ones that come along to move the story along. The rest belong to Kripke and the CW (aw shucks!!!!!).

Sam Winchester (age 16)  
Dean Winchester (age 20)  
Daniel Winchester (age 21)  
John Winchester (do we really know his age?)  
Caleb, Bobby, Pastor Jim

And away we go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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**THE LOST SON**

16 year old Sam Winchester hurried down the hall of Carlson High School on his way to his locker. Dean would be waiting for him and with Dean's mood of late, Sam didn't want to keep him waiting. Sam reached his locker and after removing the books he would need for homework, he closed the door and turned to head back down the hall, coming face to face with Alisa Chambers. He backed up a step and shyly lowered his head, peering at the girl through his long, shaggy bangs.

"Hi Sam," Alisa said, a small nervous smile on her lips.

"Um...hi Alisa. How...how are you?" Sam stammered as his heart pounded heavily in his chest.

"I'm good. How was school today?" Alisa said as she took a step closer to Sam.

"Uh...it was okay. How about you?" Sam replied, lifting his head slightly.

"Oh, it was okay I guess. Had a test in English. I swear, Mrs. McGinnis doesn't have a life outside torturing us with her tests!" Alisa exclaimed.

"Yeah, I heard she's tough. Um...well Alisa, I gotta get going," Sam said as he inched sideways down the hall.

"Oh...can I ask you something first Sam?"

"Um...sure. Do you need help with your homework or something?"

Alisa giggled nervously then continued. "No, nothing like that. I...uh...I was just wondering if you would like to take me to the dance Friday night?"

"Me? Really? I...um..." Sam sputtered.

"Yeah. I was hoping you would ask me, but you didn't so..."

"Sorry. I wanted to but...I didn't think you would say yes."

"Really? Why wouldn't I say yes?"

"Well, you're pretty popular and...well...I know everyone thinks I'm a geek and all."

"I don't think you're a geek. Besides, that's just jealous boys saying that. They're jealous of you 'cause all the girls like you."

Sam's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "What!? Are you serious? No they don't!"

"Geez Sam, are you blind? The girls are all gonna be so envious when they see us together at the dance. Oh...if you go with me that is. So...do you wanna go?"

"Uh...yeah. I'd love to go!"

"Oh Sam! That's great! I'll talk to you some more tomorrow. My number is 555-6823. Call me later. Bye!" Alisa gushed, then reached in and kissed Sam on the cheek before rushing away down the hall.

Sam lifted his hand and gently fingered his cheek where Alisa had kissed him, his face lightly flushed. He stared after the girl then slowly started down the hall toward the front doors. A large, dimpled smile lit up his face as he stepped out into the bright afternoon sunshine. His eyes scanned the parking lot and he soon caught sight of the Impala.

Sam rushed across the lawn to the black car, pulled the passenger door open and plopped into the front seat. He lifted his backpack over the seat and tossed it into the backseat. He glanced at Dean when he sensed his brother staring at him. Dean eyed Sam over the top of his sunglasses, his eyebrow lifted in a questioning manner.

"What?" Sam asked innocently.

"Where the hell were you Sam? Didn't I specifically tell you this morning to be right out today? I have plans and you seem to think I'm only around to drop you off and pick you up!" Dean fumed as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Sorry Dean. I got stopped on my way out. I'm only a few minutes late for shit's sake!" Sam shot back.

"Watch your mouth Sam! And I don't give a shit if you're only one second late, when I say get right out after school, I expect you to do as I say!"

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"Whatever. So, who was so important to make you keep me waiting anyway?"

"Alisa Chambers," Sam said coyly.

"Huh. Isn't she the girl you've been drooling over ever since you started here?"

"I haven't been drooling Dean! And yeah, that's her."

"What did she want? Help with her homework?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"No Dean. Actually, she asked me to the dance on Friday night and I said yes."

"Sweet! Too bad you can't go," Dean quipped.

Sam jerked his head toward Dean, his eyes wide. "What do you mean? Why can't I go?"

"Because Sam, we're leaving right after you get out of school on Friday. We have a hunt and Dad wants to be on the road by 4 pm."

"Dean! I don't have to go do I? All I ever do is sit in the car anyway."

"You're going Sam! I am going on this hunt. I am not staying home and babysitting your bratty ass!"

"You don't have to babysit me Dean. I can stay home by myself."

"Yeah, like Dad's gonna go for that. I mean, the last time we left you alone went so well!"

"That wasn't my fault Dean and you know it."

"Yeah Sammy. You're a trouble magnet and Dad is never going to let you stay by yourself again."

"Maybe Dan will stay then. He doesn't seem to mind being around me."

"Dad needs both Dan and me. You're going, so just forget about the dance Sam."

"I'll talk to Dad. He'll let me stay."

"Whatever Sam."

Sam sank down in his seat, the upcoming conversation, or more aptly, argument, running through his mind.

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**Well, that's it for now. Not very long, but it gets the story going. Please let me know what you think. More tomorrow.**

**Cindy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright!! Chapter 2! Thanks to everyone who is reading and the comments have been wonderful! I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Cindy.**

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"Absolutely not Sam! You are not staying here alone!" John Winchester shouted, his youngest wincing at the outburst.

Sam stood up straighter and squared his shoulders, preparing for battle. "But Dad! Why not? It's not like you let me do anything on hunts anyway. You'll either leave me at the motel or make me stay in the car, so why can't I just stay here? I'll be fine Dad."

"The last time I left you alone the house burned down Sam. We lost a lot of good weapons in that fire that have been very difficult to replace," John stated matter-of-factly while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Oh, so it's the weapons you were concerned about, not me. That's typical," Sam spat.

"That's not what I meant Sam," John retorted with frustration.

"You may as well have meant it that way Dad. Besides, that fire was not my fault. The wiring in that craphole hadn't been replaced since Roosevelt was president. And I don't mean FDR. It was only a matter of time before the whole thing went up. You're pissed at me for something I had no control over!" Sam shouted, his face turning a bright red.

"Samuel, you had better change your tone with me right now! I will not be spoken to in that way by a snot nosed little brat such as yourself!" John spat angrily.

"What are you gonna do Dad? Punish me? My whole life is punishment enough, what else could you possibly do to me? I wonder what Mom would say about the way you've raised us..."

Before Sam could utter another word he found himself grabbed by the front of his shirt and slammed into the wall by a very pissed off John Winchester. Sam's head bounced off the wall painfully and he saw black spots dance before his eyes momentarily. John's red face came within two inches of Sam's, his eyes wide with fury.

"Don't you ever speak about your mother that way again! Do you understand me Samuel!?" John seethed then slammed Sam against the wall once more for emphasis.

Dean, a silent onlooker up to this point took a step forward. 'Okay, this is getting a little out of hand,' he thought, but did not voice his opinion. He stepped closer and laid his hand on John's shoulder noting the defiant look in his baby brother's eyes.

"Dad, let him go," Dean said quietly.

John slowly released Sam and the boy reached up a shaky hand to finger the already forming lump on the back of his head.

"I'm sorry Dad. I shouldn't have said that," Sam whispered, unable to look at his father.

"I don't want to hear it Sam. You've disrespected me and your mother and nothing you say is going to change that. Mary would be ashamed of the way you have turned out. Putting a dance ahead of your family. Something so utterly unimportant!"

"You think anything that interests me, that makes me happy is unimportant Dad," Sam said sadly.

"The only things that are important are family and hunting. Nothing else matters. But you hold a dance to be more important than either of those things."

"Oh my God, Dad! How can wanting to go to a dance be interpreted as not thinking your family is important? Only you could make that jump. It's just a dance Dad."

"Yeah, it's just a dance and you're not going. You better call your little girlfriend and let her know she needs to find a different date."

"Dad, please..."

"There's no use begging Samuel. You're just one big disappointment to me and your brothers. I think it would be best if you made yourself lost for awhile. I'm sure I speak for Dean also when I say we really don't want to see your face right now."

"Dad..."

"Go Sam. Now!"

Sam slowly walked from the kitchen, his pleading eyes falling on Dean. But he received no comfort there.

"Dad's right Sam, you need to just disappear for awhile. And stop being such a selfish brat!" Dean said, then turned his back and walked to the table and sat across from where John had seated himself.

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Sam trudged to the room he shared with Dean and dropped to his bed. His eyes burned with unshed tears but he refused to let them fall. His father had revealed that what he had always thought to be the case was truly a reality. He was a disappointment to his family. And not only that, but John believed that Sam's beloved mother would be ashamed of him.

All Sam wanted was to go to one stupid dance. How had things gotten so out of hand? Sam pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Alisa's number. On the third ring, the call was answered.

"Hello?" came the sweet voice on the other end.

"Hi Alisa. It's Sam."

"Sam! I'm so glad you called. I am so excited about Friday night. I already told all my girlfriends and they are totally jealous!"

Sam swallowed, his heart sinking at what he was being forced to do. "Yeah...about the dance Alisa..."

"What's wrong Sam?"

"I'm so sorry. I...I can't go to the dance with you."

"What? Why not?"

"My Dad. I guess we're going out of town and he won't let me stay here by myself. I mean, it's not like he or my brothers would even notice if I was with them anyway. He's just making me go to punish me for being such a huge disappointment to him."

"Sam? Are you okay?"

"No, but that's not your problem Alisa. I'm so sorry about the dance."

"It's okay Sam. I mean...I was really looking forward to it, but if you can't go, you can't go. Maybe we can go out some other time?"

"Really? You're not mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. A little disappointed, but not mad."

"Yeah, I seem to be disappointing people left and right nowadays. I can't seem to please anyone."

"Sam, it's not your fault. We'll go out some other time, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. I'd like that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe we can go to a movie or something."

"That sounds nice. Well, I gotta go Sam. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow Alisa."

"Bye Sam."

"Bye Alisa."

Alisa ended the call and Sam sat on his bed, the argument playing over and over in his head.

_"You're just one big disappointment..."_

"Mary would be ashamed of the way you turned out..."

"I think it would be best if you made yourself lost..."

"We really don't want to see your face..."

"You need to disappear..."

"Stop being such a selfish brat..."

Sam rose from his bed and grabbed his backpack from the floor, then dumped the contents onto his bed. He went to his dresser and pulled out a change of clothes and stuffed them into his pack. He unplugged his phone charger from the wall and stuffed it in with his clothes. Next, he reached under his mattress and pulled out a bundle of cash that had been rolled up and rubberbanded. He had earned the money doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. He was saving it to buy his Dad and brothers gifts for Christmas, but now realized that with what they thought of him, his gifts would not be appreciated. He pocketed the money and his phone, grabbed his backpack and walked to the window.

Sam placed his pack on the floor then sat heavily on his bed. He reached for a notebook and pen and began to write. Twenty minutes later he ripped the page from the notebook, folded the paper in half then went to Dean's dresser and placed the paper in the top drawer. He then returned to the window and picked up his pack. He quietly pushed the window up then pushed his backpack through and dropped it to the ground. He pulled himself through the window and dropped soundlessly to the ground beside his pack. He shouldered the pack and hurried away from the small house, his departure hidden by the darkness of the cool night. If his dad and Dean, and then by default his brother Daniel, wanted him lost, he could certainly oblige.

'It's not like they'll care or notice anyway,' he thought sadly to himself as he put more distance between himself and his family.

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**Okay, first of all, I love John and Dean. I really, really do. They come around in the next chapter so don't fret! Next chapter you get to meet Daniel too! I really think you'll like him. He's kinda a cross between Dean and Sam. And, because I feel so bad about how John and Dean are acting, I want you all to get to see them in a better light, plus I have a reader who is gonna be internet-less starting tomorrow for like 10 days (yikes!) and I want her to meet Daniel before she has to go away for awhile. So, I hope you liked this chapter and will come back for the next one later tonight! Take care all. Reviews are love!**

**Cindy.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, as promised, here is the bonus chapter. You get to meet Daniel and I hope you all like him. He's a bit hard on his dad and brother in this one, understandably. Here goes.**

**Cindy.**

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Dean and John sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee and looking absolutely miserable. The anger from earlier had worn off and the realization of what had been said had begun to sink in. Neither had said much and both were feeling the first tendrils of guilt taking hold in their minds. The hurtful things they had said to Sam played through their respective subconscious' and both felt huge weights crushing their hearts, but neither one made a move to go talk to him.

For his part, Dean felt especially guilty, not only for what he had said tonight, but for the past two weeks. He had barely been civil to his little brother and at times had felt the need to verbally hurt him for no good reason. The girl he had been dating, Rose, had broken it off with him because he wasn't able to spend as much time with her due to the fact that Sam had to be watched out for, Dad's orders. It wasn't even Sam's fault, but Dean needed to take his anger out on someone and Sam was the perfect target. What really made the guilt flare was the fact that both he and Daniel would watch out for Sam whether their father ordered it or not. They were both insanely overprotective of their baby brother, so Dean had no one to blame but himself. It was finally beginning to dawn on him that he would have broken things off eventually himself anyway because he couldn't let anything interfere with his big brother duties.

Dean and John were startled out of their musings when the front door slammed and they heard heavy footsteps cross the livingroom floor before Daniel stepped into the kitchen. About the same height as Dean with short sandy hair, but not spiked like Dean's, and dark brown eyes, Daniel was the oldest of the Winchester boys, being born one year almost to the day before Dean. He stopped and eyed his father and brother, a quizzical arch to his brow.

"Okay, why the long faces? What's up?" he asked then looked around the room. "Where's Sam?"

The other men looked down to the floor, not answering.

"What happened? What did the kid do this time?" Daniel asked amusedly.

Daniel was met with two sets of guilt filled eyes and the grin quickly left his face.

"Okay, spit it out. What's going on? What did you guys say to him?"

"Alisa Chambers asked him to a dance Friday night and Dad said he couldn't go," Dean started.

"Wait a minute. Alisa Chambers? THE Alisa Chambers. The girl he's been pining over for two months now? Why can't he go anyway?"

"He has to come with us on the hunt this weekend," John stated.

"Oh, I bet that went over real well. And just why does he have to go with us exactly? Does the car really need to be kept company all night?" Daniel quipped.

"Watch it Daniel! You know what happened the last time Sam was left alone," John shot back.

"So, you're blaming Sammy for bad wiring huh? Poor kid, can't do anything right."

"I'm not blaming him. I'm just pointing out how things can happen and we can't keep him safe if he's here alone."

"Dad, Sam is capable of taking care of himself. I understand you know. I worry about him too, but we can't always be with him. He got himself out of that house and saved a lot of the important stuff to boot. Let him go to the dance. He deserves a break from us you know. We aren't always that nice to him, aye Dean?"

Dean lowered his eyes and slowly nodded, knowing exactly what Daniel was implying. "Dad, I agree with Danny. We should let him stay and go to the dance. I know we're gonna worry, but we have to let him stay. He'll be fine."

John looked from one son to the other and knew right then that he had lost the battle. And dammit, but they were right. He shook his head as he spoke. "Fine. I guess it can't hurt to let him have a little freedom. It's just, when we came home that time to all of those firetrucks and seeing the house, I couldn't help but think that maybe whatever took your mother had taken our Sammy too. Daniel, go get him will you?"

"Sure thing Dad," Daniel said nodding his head in understanding.

Daniel headed out of the kitchen and down the hall to Dean and Sam's room, finding the door closed. He lightly knocked on the door and waited for his brother's soft voice to invite him in. When he received no response, he knocked a little harder. "Sam, can I come in kiddo?"

There was still no response so Daniel pushed the door open and peered into the dark room. Seeing and hearing nothing he flipped the light switch beside the door and the room was immediately bathed in light. The room was empty and Daniel noted the wide open window. He stepped into the room and noticed the pile of school books and notebooks lying haphazardly on Sam's bed.

"Shit!" he exclaimed as he walked from the room and back to the kitchen.

Daniel entered the kitchen and John looked up from his journal he had opened, expecting to see his youngest trailing his oldest. When he didn't see Sam, he raised his eyebrows and asked, "Where's Sam?"

"Uh...how long ago did he go to his room?" Daniel asked with a slightly concerned tone. Dean, noticing the tone, stopped cleaning the gun he currently held and looked up.

"I don't know. About an hour and a half ago I guess. Why?" John said, a hint of worry behind the question.

"He's not there. Bedroom window's wide open and there's no Sam. What did you guys say to him?" Daniel said, anger now in his voice.

Dean and John rose from the table and followed Daniel to the bedroom. They entered the room and looked around, confusion and an inkling of fear on their faces.

"Where could he be? He never went out the front door, we would have heard it," John said absently.

"I guess he went out the window," Dean replied.

"How upset was he tonight Dad? What did you two say to him?" Daniel spat, clearly upset by this turn of events.

"God, you don't think he took all of that literally do you?" John queried.

"I don't know Dad. We were pretty mad, and we said some fairly awful things, " Dean replied.

"What was said Dean? What did you do?" Daniel was pissed now. His baby brother was somewhere out in the night, upset and hurting, and they had no idea where he could be.

"I...I told him to disappear, and that he was selfish," Dean answered, shame in his eyes.

"I did this. I drove him away," John said sadly, looking at his sons.

"What did you say Dad?"

"I told him that he was...that he was a disappointment to us all and that he should make himself lost for awhile. I said we didn't want to see his face..."

"God Dad! This is Sammy we're talking about here. You both know how he is. Shit!! And I don't appreciate you implying to Sam that I'm disappointed in him. If anything, I admire him. He has the balls to stand up to you Dad when Dean and I rarely do. That kid is the strongest one of all of us!"

John nodded in agreement then spoke again. "I haven't told you everything."

"What? There's more?"

"I just lost it at one point and slammed Sam against the wall. I know he hit his head hard and it hurt him, but I didn't care. I was just so angry. Then I slammed him one more time for good measure." John sunk down on Sam's bed and ran his fingers through his hair.

Daniel stared dumbfounded at his father for a moment then turned his angry eyes to Dean. "And where were you when Dad was physically abusing our baby brother?" he spat.

Dean started to speak, but John beat him to it. "He stopped me Daniel. If it weren't for Dean, I may have hurt Sammy a lot worse. I'm so sorry! I just lost it after he mentioned your mother..."

"This is fucking messed up! I can't believe either of you! No wonder he took off."

"Can we just stop yelling and go look for Sam? We need to find him. We need to make this right," Dean pled then hurried from the room.

Daniel and John followed Dean out of the room. They each grabbed their set of car keys and headed out the front door. Soon, three very worried Winchesters were driving in three separate directions with one goal in mind. Find their lost son and bring him home.

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**Well? Like? Hate? Somewhere in between? Let me know. More to come tomorrow. Take care all!**

**Cindy.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, the support so far for this story has been wonderful! I'm so glad you all are giving it a chance and liking Daniel too! This story originally came from a dream I had and it had Daniel, so I kept him in. So glad I did. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter.**

**Cindy.**

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**Two Hours Later**

Dean was the first to arrive back at the house, frustrated and panicked at not finding a trace of his brother. He pushed through the front door and hurriedly made his way to Sam's and his room.

"Sam!" he yelled as he entered the bedroom, hoping Sam had come home and was sound asleep in his bed. Sam's bed was empty as was the rest of the house Dean discovered when he made a quick search. Dean flinched when his cell phone rang and he flipped it open without checking the caller ID.

"Sam?" he queried, praying it was his little brother on the line.

"I take it you didn't find him," John's gruff voice answered back, and Dean noted the weariness in his tone.

"No...nothing on your end I take it?" Dean replied, brushing his hand through his hair.

"No. I spoke with Daniel and he hasn't seen anything either. We're headed home. Where are you?"

"Already here. Dad...we have to find him. If anything happens to him..."

"We'll find him Dean. I'm sure he'll come back as soon as he cools off. He's probably just hiding out somewhere until he's ready to come home," John answered, but there was no conviction in his reply.

"Yeah. I hope you're right Dad. See ya in a few."

Dean hung up and sank down on the couch. The earlier argument played through his mind and he shook his head sadly. He and his father had driven Sam away and he could only hope that John was right and that Sam would come walking through the door anytime. A sick, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that he didn't believe that was going to happen. He had a horrible feeling that they had truly lost Sam and that it was going to take a miracle to find him.

The familiar sound of John's truck interrupted Dean's thoughts and he rose from the couch and walked to the front door. He swung the door open and stepped onto the porch. His father exited his truck just as Daniel pulled up in his yellow Camero. Daniel parked alongside the truck and emerged from his car, a troubled and weary look on his face.

"Nothing?" he asked as he glanced at Dean.

"No. I've tried calling him but his phone goes straight to voicemail. I looked everywhere I could think of that he may go," Dean said with frustration.

"We need to go out and start over. We have to find him..." Daniel started for his car again, but John's voice stopped him.

"You aren't going to find him. If he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. I say we sit tight and wait for him to either call or come home."

"What if he doesn't? We told him to leave Dad. What if he doesn't come back?" Dean asked as the three men entered the small house.

"Sammy's not going to leave just because of an argument. He knows we didn't mean for him to leave and not come back. He's just hiding out. Calming down. He'll be back before morning," John answered.

"He didn't even take his jacket..." Daniel said absently, picking the worn jacket up from the end of the couch. "It's chilly out tonight."

John and Dean looked to Daniel, both knowing they had to make this right not only for Sam, but for Daniel also. John walked to Daniel and placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "He had long sleeves, he'll be fine."

"Will he Dad? He already thinks he can't do anything right in your eyes, and after what you said to him. Do you really think he'll be fine?" Daniel spat as he shook off his father's hand.

"We'll make it right. I'll make it right."

"I've been so mean to him these past two weeks," Dean chimed in, the two older men turning their heads in his direction. "I blamed him for Rose breaking up with me. Do you believe it? I even took his picture he keeps beside his bed of Mom and him and hid it in my dresser. How messed up is that? I actually was amused when he was tearing up our room looking for it."

"Dean..." John started.

"No Dad. Sam's such a great kid, and he works so hard to please us and all he ever gets is shot down. We don't deserve him, you know?" Dean ubruptly stood from the couch and headed to his bedroom with the intent of replacing the stolen photo back on Sam's nightstand. He stepped to his dresser and pulled the top drawer open. He stopped when he saw the folded sheet of notebook paper lying on top of his socks. He shakily reached in and took the paper from the drawer then slowly unfolded it and began to read.

Dean collapsed down onto his bed, a tear slipping down his cheek as he continued to read. When he finished, he sat for several minutes, sadness and shame washing over him. He slowly stood and shuffled out of the room and back into the livingroom.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Daniel asked, stepping up to his stricken brother.

Dean wordlessly handed the paper to Daniel then sat heavily on the couch. Daniel began to read, a multitude of emotions playing across his face. Before long he too sank down on the couch next to Dean. His hands were shaking as he finished reading. He said nothing.

"What is it?" John queried as he nervously watched his stunned and silent sons.

Daniel held the sheet of paper out to John and looked him straight in the eyes as tears welled in his own. "We're screwed Dad. We've lost him," he said with despair as John took the paper and began to read, all color draining from his face as the words of his youngest son were revealed.

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_Dad, Dean and Daniel,_

By now you've figured out I'm gone. I don't want to go, but I want to do what's right for my family. I know you all believe that I am selfish and only care about myself, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I have felt for a long time now that I am a disappointment to you all, and tonight Dad confirmed it. It's okay. I understand. I never have been and never will be like Dean and Daniel, the perfect soldiers, the perfect sons. It just isn't who I am and I'm sorry if that disappoints you Dad.

I know I bring you endless frustration when I say I want to be a little bit normal, when I say I want us to be a normal family sometimes. Maybe it's because I've never known what it's like. Dean and Daniel at least had a few years of that normal life that I have never known.

I know none of you like to talk to me about Mom and you don't think the loss of her affects me the same way or as much as it does all of you. You can't even imagine what it's like for me, to only know what my mother's smile looked like from a picture. A picture that I somehow lost, that's how screwed up I am. I'll never have the memories of the sound of her voice, of her laughter or the feel of her touch, but that doesn't mean I love her any less.

I have an ache in my heart that will never go away because I know that Mom was taken from you all because of me. I'm not sure how I know this, but I am certain that her death is my fault. I was who whatever killed Mom was after, not her. She should still be here, not me. I know it would have been better for this family if I had died that night and not Mom. My death would have been so much easier for you all to get over and you would still have that wonderful, normal life you had before I came along. I think it would have been better if I hadn't been born at all.

I want to thank all of you, especially you Dad, for the training you have provided over the years. The things I have learned, and yes Dad I have listened and learned, will help me to survive out there on my own. I know you may not believe this, but I love you all so much. I would sacrifice my life for any one of you in a heartbeat. I just don't want to bring you any more pain than I already have. Maybe some day we'll be able to see each other again and you all will love me as much as I love you.

Take care. I love you-

Sam

P.S. Dad, it was never really about the dance. It was about someone that I really liked liking me back. Someone liking me for who I am, not who they think I should be. I hope you can understand that. My family is the most important thing in my life.

_Love you-Sam_

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**Well, there you go. I hope you liked that. I may post another chapter later if I have time. This is a long story so I may try to post multiple chapters when I can. Please let me know what you think.**

**Cindy.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, bonus chapter! I thought we needed to get back to Sam. It's been a few chapters since we've seen him. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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Dean paced nervously back and forth behind the couch, his heart beating furiously in his chest. His father and brother watched him, their own feelings matching his, but neither had the energy to do anything but sit and stare.

"What are we going to do? We have no idea where he is!" Dean cried.

"Dean...calm down," John said as he rose from the chair.

"No Dad! I can't calm down. Sam thinks he's to blame for Mom's death for God's sake! He doesn't think we love him. Dad, he wishes he was never born!"

"I know Dean. I read the letter too. We'll fix this."

"How long has he been feeling like this? How long have we been feeding his beliefs by refusing to speak of Mom with him. By yelling at him for wanting to know more about her!"

"Dean, this isn't helping," Daniel started.

"Daniel, you're the only one of us who's treated Sam with any respect lately. Why aren't you more pissed? Yeah, you were pissed earlier, but now? You can't have forgiven us yet! We don't deserve it."

"I haven't forgiven either of you. But we need to work together if we're going to find Sam. Don't worry, I'm plenty pissed but I choose to use that energy to find my brother, not yell at you or Dad."

"So, you think I'm losing it huh?"

"No, you're not losing it. You had to have had it in the first place to lose it!"

"You're funny dude!"

"We'll find him Dean. I promise you, we'll find him."

"Okay Daniel. I'm sorry, for how I've treated Sam."

"That's something you need to tell Sam when we find him."

"Will you ever be able to forgive me and Dad?"

"I think the question is, will you both be able to forgive yourselves?"

Dean dropped his head and stared at the floor. He shook his head and sighed. "Only if Sam can find it in his heart to forgive us."

"Well then little brother, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

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A silver mini-van pulled up outside of The Lazy Jay Motel on the outskirts of Phoenix Arizona. The back passenger door slid open and a tall, lanky boy with shaggy brown hair emerged from the van, backpack in tow. The boy affectionately ruffled the blond curls of the little girl who was secured in her child safety seat directly in front of him. The girl let out a happy squeal then clapped her hands together. "Sam...Sam...SAMMY!" she chanted gleefully as she held her hands out to him.

"Bye Katie. I'm going to miss you," he said as he closed the sliding door after giving the girl a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Katie's smile faded as she realized the boy wasn't getting back in or taking her out. "Sammy?" she cried as huge tears began to flow, her arms outstretched toward the window, little fingers wiggling furiously.

Sam sadly looked away then moved to the front passenger window when it was rolled down. The pretty woman in the front seat turned to him and gave him a small smile. "You take care of yourself Sam. It was very nice to have met you."

"Thanks Mrs. Huntly. It was nice to meet you too. And you Mr. Huntly," Sam said as he bowed down to glance across Mrs. Huntly to her husband.

Mr. Huntly waved lightly then said, "You be careful Sam. Are you sure this is where you want to be dropped?" Mr. Huntly gazed at the rundown motel and the surrounding area with worry all over his face.

"I'll be careful. And yeah, my folks said to find a motel near Phoenix then give them a call and they'd come get me," Sam replied.

"I don't know Sam. This place doesn't look very safe," Mrs. Huntly said with concern.

"I'll be fine. There's a diner right here and I'll make sure to lock and chain the door. Don't worry."

"I'm a mother Sam, therefore I worry…even if it isn't my kid."

Sam gave the woman a sad smile then shouldered his backpack. He was going to miss this family. He had only been with them since early that morning but it was enough time for little Katie to fall in love with him, and he with her. How nice would it be to just stay with them, to be in a normal family? Sam sighed softly and stepped back from the van, waving lightly. Katie still cried for him from the backseat and it was all Sam could do to keep from sobbing himself. The van pulled away and Sam watched it for a moment before turning to the motel.

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Mrs. Huntly turned in her seat and watched Sam as he slipped further away in the distance. She sighed and turned back around, shaking her head slowly.

"That has to be the saddest child I have ever seen. I wonder what happened to him to make him so sad. Such a sweet boy," she whispered as she turned to look at Katie who had cried herself to sleep.

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Sam entered the office at The Lazy Jay Motel and stepped up to the counter. A man in his mid thirties emerged from the office looking Sam up and down as he neared. "Can I help ya?" he asked through dingy, yellowed teeth.

"Can I get a room? A single is fine," Sam replied.

The man lifted an eyebrow as he eyed Sam critically. "How old are ya boy?"

"Old enough," Sam said curtly. "Do you have a room available?"

"Yeah, I got a room. Hold your horses." The man pushed a notebook toward Sam. "Sign here," he instructed.

Sam signed the book then pushed it back to the man. "How much?"

"Thirty six plus tax. If you want the phone turned on it's extra."

"I don't need the phone thanks." Sam pulled his money from his pocket and counted out enough for the room then slipped the rest back into his jeans. He handed the man the bills then waited for his receipt and room key.

"Room 114, all the way at the end," the man said as he passed Sam his key and receipt.

Sam took the key and receipt and turned to leave the office. "Thanks," he muttered as he walked back outside.

"Yep," the man retorted.

Sam walked the length of the motel until he came to room 114. He slid the key into the lock and turned it. The door slid open and Sam hurried into the dark room. He quickly removed the key and shut the door, engaging the lock and chain immediately. He fumbled for the light switch and flipped it when he finally located it. The room was dreary with light brown walls and brown shag carpeting. Sam had stayed in worse, but not by much. He sighed and moved to the bed, throwing his backpack onto the green and yellow bedspread. As long as the sheets were clean and the water was hot, he couldn't care less about the decor of the room.

Sam thought about heading to the diner to grab some dinner, but quickly dismissed the idea. He wasn't all that hungry and besides, it was quite dark outside. The way the man in the office had looked at him made Sam uncomfortable and he didn't want to cross the dark parking lot without a weapon. Sam kicked himself for not grabbing his hunting knife and pistol before leaving his house. The only weapon he had was his pocket knife and he felt a bit vulnerable without his heavier weaponry.

Sam grabbed his backpack and unzipped the front pouch and pulled out a bag of licorice bits he had bought earlier in the day when the Huntly's had stopped for gas. He opened the bag and popped a few pieces of candy into his mouth. He reached in his pack and pulled out a small bottle of shampoo, a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste that he had also picked up earlier then headed to the bathroom. The room was small, but at least it was clean. Sam removed his clothes after turning on the shower then climbed in under the cascading stream of water. The heat and pressure of the water eased and loosened his tense muscles and by the time Sam stepped from the shower he was more relaxed than he'd been in days.

Sam quickly dried himself then slipped his tee shirt and boxers back on. Sam shook his wet head as he wondered at the lack of sense he used when filling his backpack. He had only grabbed one change of clothes, no clean socks or underwear, and no pajamas. Of course, his state of mind wasn't exactly condusive to clear thinking at the time. Sam grabbed his button down shirt, shoes, socks and jeans and left the bathroom. He crossed the room to the bed and flipped the bedside lamp on before returning to the lightswitch on the wall and turning off the overhead light. He shuffled back to the bed and climbed under the covers. He contemplated turning on the TV but decided against it.

Sam leaned against the headboard then turned off the lamp. He sat in the dark as a million thoughts ran through his head. It had been three days since he had left home. Three days since he had found out what his family truly thought of him. Three days since he had left that family behind. He laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He missed them all so much. He didn't know if he could do this. He didn't know if he could make it on his own. Didn't want to make it on his own. He wanted his family, but it was obvious that they didn't want him.

Tonight was the first night that Sam had gotten a motel room. The previous nights had been spent in any kind of halfway safe shelter he could find. He just couldn't bear to spend one more night sleeping on the hard ground. Or not sleeping considering the amount of rest he had gotten.

Sam was dog tired and just couldn't think about his family, or his screwed up life, or his Mom anymore tonight. He shifted down in the bed and closed his eyes. It didn't take long before Sam was softly snoring, completely unaware of the eyes that watched his room or the phone call that was being placed by the owner of said eyes at that very moment.

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**Uh-oh! Looks like Sam isn't gonna have such a restful nights sleep after all! Please review. More tomorrow!**

**Cindy.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Uh, short chapter here folks. Sorry. There will be another chapter later tonight though. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam wasn't sure what had awakened him, he just knew it was something that was out of place. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 12:00 AM. He'd managed to get three hours of sleep. That was as much as he had gotten total over the past three nights so he was sitting pretty good he felt. He lay quietly in bed listening for the sound that had woke him up and jumped quickly out of bed when he realized it was someone trying to break into his room. He hurriedly slipped his jeans on then silently slipped up to the door, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his pocket knife. He placed his ear to the door just about at the same time the door slipped open, the chain keeping it from opening all the way. Just as Sam pulled back the door slammed in, breaking the chain and ramming into his face, sending him stumbling backwards and hitting the wall, and dropping his knife in the process. The intruder rushed into the room, grabbed Sam by the shoulders and ripped him from the wall, then shoved him roughly down onto the bed.

"Where is it kid!?" the man spat, his face inches from Sam's.

Sam was still stunned from the blow from the door and merely stared at the man, his vision swimming. He could hear someone else rummaging through the room and thought that he was definitely in some deep shit now. He felt himself picked up by the shoulders and slammed back down onto the bed again.

"Answer me boy! Where is it?!"

'God this guy's breath stinks,' Sam thought absently. "Wh...what do you want?" he asked hoarsely.

"The money kid! Where's the money?"

"I don't have any money. Leave me alone!"

Sam was picked up and rammed once more into the wall. The man grabbed his face violently before spitting out, "Wrong answer! I know you have money. Eli saw it, now give it to me!"

Sam looked to his right and saw the other man, recognizing him as the front desk clerk. "So, you make a habit of robbing your customers?" Sam asked as he shot daggers at the man.

"Just shut the hell up and give us the money before we really hurt you!" Eli shouted.

"Is that why you put me all the way down here on the end? So no one would hear you?" Sam glared at Eli, daring him to try anything.

"Kid, you got a deathwish or something? Just give us the fucking money!" the man holding Sam's face shouted angrily.

"I don't think so!" Sam spat then brought his knee roughly up into the man's groin. The man dropped like a rock, releasing Sam on his way down.

Sam jumped at Eli and slammed his fist into his stunned face. Eli staggered back and flipped backwards over the armchair, hitting the ground hard, his head bouncing off the floor with a loud thud. Eli didn't move. Sam turned around just in time to see a fist heading his way. He ducked in time for the fist to glance off the side of his head. Sam stumbled to the side, momentarily stunned, but gained his composure quick enough to avoid another fist coming his way, ramming his own fist into his attacker's stomach. The man dropped to his knees, gasping for air. Sam slugged him in the side of the head and the man fell unconscious to the floor.

Sam shuffled painfully to his backpack and pulled out his shirt, quickly pulling it on before finding his shoes and socks and putting them on. He retrieved his dropped pocket knife and slid it into his pocket, then grabbed his backpack from the floor. He scanned the room for any stray items then went to the bathroom to retrieve his shampoo, toothbrush, and toothpaste. He stuffed these into his backpack then took a quick glance in the mirror.

Sam had a bruise already prominent on his forehead where he had connected with the door, and bruises were starting to form on both cheeks where the robber had violently grabbed his face. He heard one of the men begin to stir so he quickly exited the bathroom, gingerly stepping over Eli, before rushing out the door and into the cool darkness. He took a moment to rush to the office and retrieve the notebook that he had signed his name in earlier. He tore out the page he had signed plus several pages after that, thus removing any imprints of his signature. He threw the notebook back on the counter then ran from the office, disappearing into the night.

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**So how's that for kickass Sam? More later everyone. **

**Cindy.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, here is the next chapter. It's not a long one either so I apologize. I hope you like it.**

**Cindy.**

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The word was out. John had called Bobby and Caleb, informing them that the youngest Winchester was missing. They had in turn begun to make their own calls, informing the hunting world to be on the lookout for the wayward teenager. Caleb had then headed to Santa Cruz to meet up with the remaining Winchesters to help with the search. Sam had always held a special place in the hunter's heart and to say he was scared for the boy was an understatement. He didn't know the complete story but he was sure it had to do with John's stupidity and stubbornness when it came to his youngest son.

John had two sons who obeyed every order without question although Daniel would on occasion call his father out if he felt he was being too harsh with Sam, or Dean for that matter. Dean was more silent in the face of his father, but then comforting and understanding to his younger sibling behind closed doors. Both of the older siblings felt their main job was to watch over the baby of the family and they were both fierce in their protectiveness.

Caleb knew the story by heart. John had placed six month old Sam into Dean's arms then instructed Daniel to get his two younger brothers out of the burning house. And so from that day on it was Dean's mission to keep Sam safe from anyone or anything that would try and do him harm. Even hurt feelings were not allowed. And Daniel looked out for both Dean and Sam. Sam looked out for his two older brothers as best he could, but it seemed that he had a bigger target on his back than Daniel and Dean when it came to being in danger. Danger was attracted to Sam like moths to a flame, so the older Winchesters had their work cut out for them when it came to protecting him. John watched over all of his sons, hating the fact that he had been forced to raise them to be hunters, but knowing that until they found and killed whatever it was that took his Mary, his boys, especially Sam, would never be safe.

Caleb drove through the night, determined to reach Santa Cruz by early morning to help take up the hunt for the boy he considered to be a brother. All of the Winchester boys fit that mold in Caleb's eye, but Sam was the baby and as it was with Daniel and Dean, so it was with Caleb. Protect and keep Sam safe at all costs.

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John had one more call to make. He dialed the number and waited for the call to be answered. Of the few friends John and his boys had accumulated, Pastor Jim would be the most likely one for Sam to contact. Sam had spent many days with Jim over the course of his earlier childhood and Jim had taken him under his wing, had become his mentor in a way. They had a unique bond that John was sometimes envious of. Sam could, and would tell Jim anything and Jim would listen with patient ears, knowing the young boy usually just needed a sounding board. Jim was always happy to oblige.

On the third ring the call was picked up and John felt a lump form in his throat, making it difficult to speak. He cleared his throat then tried again. "Jim, I need to know, have you heard from Sam?"

"Sam? No John. Why? What's happened?" Jim asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Sam uh...well, he uh...he ran off a few days ago and we can't find him anywhere. He's not answering his phone. In fact, it's turned off because we can't even get a read on his GPS," John spit out before taking a breath.

"Oh John. What did you do to him this time?" Jim asked, but no venom was in his tone, only weariness.

"I said some things, Dean said some things. Sam may have gotten the impression we didn't want him around. And coupled with what we found out that Sam already believes...well...I don't think he's coming home on his own," John replied tiredly.

Jim gasped, his shock keeping him from speaking for a moment. When he did finally find his voice he said, "What did you say to the poor boy John?"

"That's not really something I want to discuss right now. I just don't have time to get into it. Just know that it was bad and leave it at that."

Jim sighed heavily, then replied, "What do you want me to do?"

"Just stay there. Hopefully Sam will call and let you know he's okay. Maybe even where he is. Just...just let me know if you hear from him Jim. Please."

Jim felt a lump in his throat. John never begged, so he knew just how serious the situation was. He could only guess as to what was said to Sam, and he shook his head sadly at what the boy must be feeling right now.

"I'll let you know if I hear from him John, you know that. I'll say a prayer. You'll find him John. Have faith," Jim said to his distraught friend.

"Faith? Hasn't really done me much good Jim. But, I have faith in you. Thanks Jim," John said, then ended the call.

John sat heavily on a kitchen chair. He could hear Daniel and Dean's voices in the livingroom discussing what they would do once Caleb showed up. John had so hoped that Sam would have contacted Jim, so when he learned that Sam hadn't, it only drove home the fact that he had truly lost his baby boy. John didn't know if his family could survive the loss. Sam was the glue that held this family together, the heart and soul of it, and without him the family would eventually fall to pieces. Daniel and Dean would be devastated. And whom was John kidding? He would be devastated also. If they lost Sam, they would lose the last pure gift that Mary had left them. The only thing that kept the grief of her loss from completely overwhelming them.

'No!' John thought, 'Failure is not an option! We will find our boy and bring him home. I'm so sorry Mary. I'm so sorry for hurting our angel so badly. I promise I will make this right. I promise you, and I promise Sammy.'

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**Sorry there was no action, but there is plenty of that coming up! Please review.**

**Hey, I've decided I am going to post a third chapter tonight because I may only be able to post one or two tomorrow and possibly none on Sunday. I am taking my computer to my brother-in-law tomorrow night so he can work on it and I don't know when it will be available to me again. I hope you all don't mind a third chapter. LOL **

**Cindy.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay guys. There is a warning with this chapter. This is where things start to turn very dark for Sam. This story contains extreme violence against a minor. I don't like to give too much away, but I won't take it too far, so I hope that helps ease any concerns if any of you are concerned about things like sexual assault. It gets very close, but I don't go that far. You have been warned.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam kept to the shadows as he put more and more distance between himself and the motel. He was afraid his two attackers would try to find him and wasn't sure if he was up for another fight. Exhaustion was catching up to him and his head ached from the blow it had received. He had made his way into the city and was searching for a place to sleep for the rest of the night. He finally came to a park with a small wading pool. About fifty feet from the pool was a large shed with a lean-to off the side. There were items stacked in the lean-to but Sam was able to squeeze around them and found a space near the back where he could lie down. There wasn't enough room to fully stretch out, but it was well hidden and that was what was important.

Sam got as comfortable as he could, resting his head on his backpack. He wrapped his arms around his body and shivered. He may be in Arizona, but it was Spring and even though it got quite hot during the day, it was still chilly at night. Sam wished he had been able to grab his jacket the night he left, but shook his head and merely told himself to suck it up. He was a Winchester after all, and even if he was the weak link in the family, he still could take a little cold. So, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, hoping that the nightmares that had been plaguing him would leave him alone just this once.

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Sam awoke sometime later assuming it to be early to mid morning based upon the amount of light filtering into the lean-to. He sat up slowly then stretched his stiff muscles, rolling his head from side to side to loosen the crick that had settled there while he slept. Sam shakily stood, a dull throb pounding behind the bump on his forehead. Once he felt stable, he gathered his backpack and made his way out of the lean-to. One woman jogging around the perimeter, and a man walking his dog were the only two people Sam saw in the park. Sam hurried across the grass to the sidewalk then slowed his pace some. His stomach grumbled loudly and Sam remembered that he hadn't eaten since lunchtime the day before. He kept his eyes peeled for someplace to eat and soon found a small diner about six blocks from the park. Forty minutes after entering the diner, he exited, his stomach full and his headache barely noticeable. He shouldered his backpack and began to walk.

Two hours later found Sam slowly making his way down a virtually deserted highway. It was a two-lane road that stretched across the desert, a dark ribbon that cut through the tan sands of the surrounding landscape. Sweat trickled down Sam's back and face as the heat pounded him. It may still be Spring, but the Arizona desert was hot. Sam figured it was approaching ninety degrees and was happy that he had thought to stop at the last gas station he had come to and purchased a few bottles of water. He didn't much relish the thought of collapsing from heatstroke and dehydration out here where he had only seen a few cars in the last hour.

The road stretched endlessly it seemed in front of him and Sam was more than a little worried that coming this way had been a mistake. The temperature had climbed more and Sam's water was nearly gone. Sam was lost in morose thoughts of buzzards picking his sun dried remains clean when the sound of a vehicle jerked him back to reality. An early model white car had stopped some twenty feet ahead of him and was now backing up, and it came to a stop when it reached the spot that Sam was standing. Sam chuckled a little when he saw the model of the car was a Demon. The windows were heavily tinted and Sam couldn't see inside, so he took a few tentative steps backwards as the passenger window was rolled down. A man appearing to be in his mid to late thirties leaned across the bench seat and peered out the window, squinting his eyes at the bright sunshine.

"Where you headed kid?" the man asked as he pulled his hand up to his forehead to shade his eyes.

"East. No where in particular," Sam answered, not moving closer to the car.

"You want a lift?" the man queried.

"Uh...I don't know...I," Sam stuttered. The man made him nervous and he didn't quite know why. Maybe his encounter last night had made him jumpy. "I'm okay. Thanks."

"I understand kid. You don't know me, but it's pretty damn hot out there and it's a good seventy miles to civilization. I can take you to the next town and drop you there."

Sam neared the car then glanced both ways down the road. The sun beat down on his neck and sweat coated his body uncomfortably and shit but the cool air from the car felt heavenly as it hit his face. Sam made his decision and smiled slightly at the man before grabbing the door handle and yanking the door open. He tossed his backpack into the backseat then climbed in the car before slamming the door shut. He reached for the window handle and rolled the window up then glanced gratefully at the man.

"Thanks. I appreciate this. It's pretty hot out there," Sam said quietly.

"No problem. Buckle up," the man replied before pulling his eyes away from Sam. He peered in his side mirror then guided the car back onto the road as Sam engaged his seatbelt.

"My name's Mike. Mike Wilcox. And you are?" the man queried, turning his head slightly in Sam's direction.

"I'm Sam. Nice to meet you Mike," Sam answered. He settled back in his seat and watched Mike nervously out of the corner of his eye. There was something about the man that made Sam nervous, but he attributed it to the stress of the past several days and slowly began to relax.

"Nice to meet you Sam. Why don't you relax, maybe take a little nap. It'll be about an hour or so before we hit town and you look beat," Mike said casually, a southern accent barely noticeable.

"I'm fine. I'm not really tired." Sam was grateful for the ride, but wanted to stay alert. He was in a stranger's car out in the middle of nowhere so he couldn't let his guard down by falling asleep.

"Suit yourself Sam," Mike said then smiled lightly before settling into silence.

Sam stared out the side window at the passing scenery. Springtime in the desert was a colorful sight. The desert was abloom with cactus flowers of many bright yellows, reds and pinks. It was quite beautiful. It wasn't long before Sam's eyes began to feel heavy and he shook his head to clear the sleepiness away. As hard as he fought to stay awake, Sam eventually lost his battle and his head lolled back against the seat as his eyes slowly slid shut.

Mike glanced at Sam, a smirk forming on his lips when he saw the boy was asleep. His eyes lingered on Sam's face then moved down his thin body. A wave of excitement washed over him as he thought of his good fortune, and he trembled slightly with anticipation.

'What a beautiful boy,' Mike thought as he returned his attention front and center and continued down the road.

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Mike Wilcox had been a prominent lawyer in New Orleans. He was a deacon in his church and volunteered at his local animal shelter. He loved his wife by all accounts and had been a highly respected man in his community. That all came to an end when it became public that he had a penchant for teenaged boys. He skipped town when he was tipped off that he was the prime suspect in the sexual assaults and strangling deaths of three boys in the New Orleans area. What the law didn't know was that the number was much higher and encompassed three states.

Mike smiled to himself as he glanced at the boy sleeping near to him on the seat. What a stroke of luck he'd had, turning down this particular road at this particular time. It was like he was meant to have this boy. Sam. Hazel eyes full of innocence, sadness and fear. A beautiful smile that had sent Mikes body fluttering at just the quick glimpse. And his voice. Soft and melodious. Sam had cried out in his sleep and it was all Mike could do to hold the wheel still and not drive off the road. He decided it was time to pull over. He wanted, no needed to touch Sam, to taste him. Just a little sample before the time was right to take him completely. Over and over. Then to wrap his hands around his throat and watch as the light was slowly extinguished from his eyes.

Mike found a turnoff and pulled off the main road. He drove another two miles then stopped when he was certain no one would happen along. He unfastened his seatbelt and slid across the seat until he was near enough to Sam to feel his warm breath. He reached out a trembling hand and gently ran his fingers down Sam's face and neck, pausing when his fingers touched Sam's collarbone. Sam made a soft mewling sound and turned his face away from Mike. Mike's breath caught in his throat and he felt he might pass out from excitement. He softly cupped Sam's face in his hand and turned it toward him, noticing the slight opening in Sam's lips. He slowly moved his face closer, still cupping Sam's cheek. He felt, as his lips brushed over Sam's cheek, that he was in heaven.

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**Well, that's it for tonight. Michael Wilcox became a much hated and talked about character** **on the other site I posted on. I guess I did my job to make readers have such a strong reaction to him. This is only the beginning folks so I hope you are prepared. I just want to say that I will never do anything to our beloved Winchesters that they can't come back from. I hope that helps any worry you may have.**

**Cindy.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Yeah, I got it. I am evil for what I'm doing to Sam. Um, my reputation ain't gonna get any better after this chapter. I hope you like it.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam came awake as something touched his cheek, tickling him. He moved his hand up to brush it away and connected with something solid. He opened his eyes and cried out as Mike's lips crashed painfully onto his own. Sam grabbed Mike's shoulders, pushing as hard as he could while also trying to pull his face away, but Mike's grip on his head was too strong. Mike pressed his lips harder onto Sam's while his tongue pushed it's way into Sam's mouth, making the terrified teen gag. Sam tasted blood and could feel where his teeth had cut into the sensitive skin of his lips. Sam fought as hard as he could but Mike's strength was far greater than his and he had a good fifty pounds on the boy.

Mike's hand reached into Sam's hair and grasping a handful, he abruptly yanked Sam's head back and violently attacked Sam's throat. Sam screamed for him to stop but that only seemed to fuel the fire and Mike attacked with even more gusto. Sam bucked his body, trying to jar the insane man away from him, but the seatbelt restrained him enough to render the movement ineffectual. The hand not holding Sam's head roamed down Sam's torso then grabbed his tee shirt and pulled it from where it was tucked into his jeans. Mike reached his hand up Sam's shirt, caressing his stomach then chest before moving around to his back.

Sam's heart beat frantically in his chest and his breaths came in wheezing gasps. He couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs and was unable to voice anything but a pathetic whimper. When Mike's hand moved back around his body and began to move down toward his hips, Sam ceased all movement, terror nearly paralyzing him. Mike softly cooed into his ear causing a shiver of revulsion to run down Sam's spine.

"That's it Sam. Just relax and enjoy this. It'll be so much better for you."

Mike's fingertips worked their way under the waistband of Sam's jeans and it was then that Sam found his voice and the extra strength he needed to once again fight back.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Sam screamed as he brought his knee up violently and connected with Mike's ribs. Mike reared back, a look of shock and surprise on his face, and grabbed his side. Sam's fist shot out, connecting with Mike's nose and Mike fell back into the driver's door. Sam frantically worked to disengage the seatbelt, his fingers fumbling as he panicked.

"You little son of a bitch! You'll pay for that!" Mike screamed as blood poured from his nose.

Mike lunged for Sam, but Sam kicked out, hitting Mike in the chest. Mike collapsed back into his seat and grabbed his chest, gasping for air. Sam finally managed to disengage the seatbelt then he reached over the backset, attempting to grab his backpack. He could just leave it, but his cellphone was tucked inside and he couldn't leave that behind. Sam tried, but couldn't reach his bag and finally made a move to exit the car. He yanked the door handle and shoved the door open. As he exited the car, he felt Mike's hand grab the back collar of his tee shirt and yank backwards. Sam fought with all his strength and suddenly the tee shirt ripped. As Sam pulled away, the tee shirt ripped completely and he was finally running from the car across the desert floor, his shirt hanging limply from his shoulders.

Sam heard the driver's door of the car open and then slam shut and he heard Mike screaming at him to stop. He willed his legs to pump harder, but the attack in the car had taken a great deal out of him.

"How far do you think you'll get Sam!?" Mike screamed in the distance, and a sob broke free from Sam's throat as his legs began to turn to rubber beneath him.

"No!" Sam cried breathlessly, tears of fear and panic spilling down his cheeks.

"You'll die out there Sam! You'll bake in the sun and then the animals will feast on you. They'll find your sun bleached bones years from now! What's worse? A little fun with me, or dying of heat and thirst in the desert and becoming buzzard food?!" Mike hollered after Sam, his voice getting closer.

"I'd rather die..." Sam whispered to himself and kept running as hard as he could.

Suddenly, Sam was hit from behind and was sent sprawling painfully to the ground. Mike dropped heavily onto Sam's lower back, his legs straddling Sam's hips. Sam dug his fingers into the dirt, but found the ground harder than he expected. Mike grabbed Sam's hair and pulled his head backwards then leaned down and whispered menacingly into his ear.

"You shouldn't have done that Sam. Now I'm gonna have to hurt you!"

With that he viciously slammed Sam's face down onto the hard ground and Sam's body went limp. Mike moved off Sam and turned him over onto his back. Blood gushed from a cut over Sam's right eye and from his nose. His bruised lips were coated in blood. Mike leaned down and licked at Sam's bloody lips as his hands grabbed hold of his ruined tee shirt and pulled it from his body. Mike sat up and stared at Sam's exposed chest and stomach. He stroked his fingers over Sam's chest then bent down, ghosting kisses over his collarbone and upper chest. Suddenly, he bit hard into the flesh just above Sam's left nipple, drawing blood and leaving his mark on what he considered his property.

Mike reluctantly rose from Sam, then grabbed his wrists and began to drag him across the desert floor toward the car. Sam moaned softly but didn't wake. Once Mike reached the car, he dropped Sam back to the ground then went to the driver's side to retrieve his keys. He came back to the trunk and unlocked it. He opened the trunk and pulled out a duffle bag. He rummaged through the bag, pulling out rope and duct tape. He looked between the two and finally settled on the duct tape. He shoved the rope back into the bag and deposited the bag in the trunk before slamming the lid shut.

Mike knelt down next to Sam, gazing at his lax face. Dirt clung to where the tears had fallen down Sam's cheeks, leaving dark tracks trailing to his jawline. Mike reached his fingers out and gently rubbed some of the dirt away. He then moved to Sam's feet and removed his shoes and socks, discarding them in the dirt. He tore a long strip of duct tape off the roll and wrapped it tightly around Sam's ankles. He rolled Sam over onto his stomach and pulled his arms behind him, then bound his wrists together with another strip of duct tape.

Mike rolled Sam back over and placed a strip of tape over his mouth, then shoved his arm under Sam's shoulders and lifted his upper body from the ground. Sam's head fell back, exposing his neck and Mike leaned down, nuzzling Sam's throat before sliding his other arm under Sam's knees and lifting him from the ground. The passenger door was wide open and Mike placed Sam on the seat, then pulled the seatbelt around him and engaged it, effectively restraining the unconscious boy completely. Mike shut the door then circled around the car and eased behind the wheel, slamming his own door shut. He started the engine then put the car in drive. He spun the car around and headed back to the main road. He looked over to Sam and found that his head had fallen forward onto his chest. He reached over and pushed Sam back against the seat, then tilted his head back until it rested on the seatback.

Red marks had formed on the sides of Sam's neck and his throat and blood ran down the side of his face from the cut above his eye. Beneath the gag, his lips were swollen and bruised. His collarbone area was covered in red marks and the bite on his chest was bloody and bruised. Mike shook his head slowly, marveling at how all of these wounds made the boy even more beautiful than before. He trembled with anticipation of the coming night. Once darkness fell, he would have Sam and by mornings light he would leave his used and dead body someplace where it would easily be found. He only wished he could see the boy's family when they were asked to identify the body. He longed to see the grief and devastation on their faces and could only hope that the media would be able to wrangle an interview from them.

Mike was brought out of his musings when Sam began to stir. He glanced at the boy and smiled at the confusion and fear he saw in his hazel eyes. Sam sluggishly struggled against his restraints, but there would be no escaping now. He flinched when Mike reached his hand over and gently brushed the hair from his eyes. Sam breathed heavily through his nose as his panic flared and his eyes remained fixed on Mike. Mike rested his hand on Sam's thigh and began to speak as he made the turn back onto the main road.

"Do you want to know what I'm going to do to you Sam?" Mike asked, a smirk on his face.

Sam shook his head and glared angrily at Mike. He squirmed in his seat, but fell back exhausted after a few moments.

"I'm going to use your body in the worst possible way. I'm going to do things to you that you can't even imagine. There won't be an inch of you that won't belong to me after tonight. I'm going to take you again and again and again. Then I'm going to make you do things to me before I strangle the life from you and leave you in a very public place, naked and ruined. Imagine the grief and humiliation of your family Sam. Imagine their faces when they have to identify you. It's a beautiful thing."

Sam jerked when Mike mentioned his family. Tears flowed down his face and over the duct tape on his mouth. There was no way he was going to let this psycho bastard do those things to him. No way he would let his father and brothers see him used in such a degrading manner. He would die before he let that happen. Sam's mind filled with fury at Mike for bringing his family into this. Sam turned his body as best he could toward Mike then quickly he brought his knees up and kicked out at Mike as hard as he could. He caught the psycho on the side of his head. Dazed, Mike turned toward Sam and was met with another kick to the face that sent his head crashing into the side window. Mike slumped against the door and the car swerved madly across the road then hit the ditch on the other side at almost full speed. The car flipped and rolled several times before coming to rest on its roof. The dust settled and there was no movement from the occupants inside.

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**Um, I really don't have anything to say for myself. Uh....reviews are love? More to come tonight before my brother-in-law takes over my computer. Take care all!**

**Cindy.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, I left you with such an evil cliffy with the last chapter and I just couldn't leave you with it any longer. I hope you enjoy this one.**

**Cindy.**

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**Santa Cruz**

Daniel sat at the kitchen table, his face resting in his hands and a cup of coffee cooling in front of him. His face was covered in stubble, his eyes were red rimmed with dark circles surrounding them. Sleep had not been high on the priority list for any of the Winchesters these past days as the hunt for their Sam continued. Problem was, they were nowhere nearer to finding him than when he first disappeared four days prior. They'd gotten the word out across the country for all hunters to be on the lookout for the missing boy, but no one had seen or heard a thing. It was as if Sam had walked away from them and simply vanished. The slamming of the front door startled Daniel out of his thoughts and he rose from the table and shuffled into the livingroom.

"Four days Dad! He's been gone for four days and all we're doing is sitting on our asses, twiddling our thumbs!" Dean yelled, his face red and eyes shining with frustration.

"What do you want me to do Dean? I'm doing everything I can, just as we all are!" John answered back, his own frustration clearly showing on his haggard face.

Caleb and Bobby walked around the shouting men and up to Daniel, Bobby laying a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Bobby had driven down once he got the word out and had arrived the afternoon of the previous day. The two older men turned, flanking the younger one as they continued to watch the ongoing argument unfold.

"We haven't done jack Dad! Why are we still here in Santa Cruz? Why aren't we on the road looking for Sam?" Dean cried, pacing the room, his arms out to the sides palms up in a questioning stance.

"And where would we go Dean? We don't know where he went. If we go in the wrong direction, we're that much further away from him," John retorted.

"I told you where he's going. Every minute we sit here, he's getting further away! Hell, we don't even know if he's alive!"

John leapt forward, grabbing Dean by his shirt. "Don't you dare say that! Sam's not dead! Don't even think it!"

"But we don't know Dad. Pastor Jim hasn't even heard from him. There's something wrong Dad, I can feel it," Dean said softly as he deflated in John's grasp.

John pulled Dean into his arms and placed one hand on the back of his head. Daniel stepped up to his father and brother and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean, we'll find him. Sam's going to fine. We'll get him back," Daniel said softly, his heart breaking as his brother turned despair filled eyes his way.

"You don't understand Daniel. He knows you love him. He thinks I don't. The way I've treated him and the things I said...He's out there alone, thinking I hate him."

"I don't believe that Dean. Sam knows we love him. He knows you love him."

Dean pulled away from his dad and brother, shaking his head. "You read his letter. What if he...Oh God! What if he did something to himself?"

Both Daniel and John reached out and grabbed Dean as his face went white and his knees buckled. They guided him to the couch and sat him down, then sat down on either side of him.

"No Dean. Sam wouldn't do that," John tried to reassure his distraught son.

"You saw his face Dad. His eyes...I can't get them out of my head." Tears spilled down Dean's cheeks and he didn't bother wiping them away. Daniel shifted next to Dean until he was facing him.

"Dean...Sam would never hurt himself like that. No matter what. He would never do that," Daniel said, but a small twinge of fear flickered in his mind.

"I hurt him so badly. I'm supposed to protect him and I treated him like garbage. If anything happens to him..."

"We all hurt him Dean. And we'll all find him and make this right with him," Daniel replied.

"No, not you Daniel. You didn't hurt him."

"All the times I didn't stand up for him, when I kept silent. I was basically telling him I agreed with Dad, that I was against him," Daniel said, his eyes locking on John's.

John shifted uncomfortably before he finally spoke. "This is all on me boys. I screwed this all up. I made Sam feel inferior. I made him think we were disappointed in him."

"Dad, we're all to blame. We all failed him. And together, we'll all get him back," Daniel stated as he fell back against the couch back, exhaustion dragging at his handsome features.

John rubbed a shaky hand over his face then looked at his boys. "Okay, it's getting dark. We need to get some sleep and hit it again in the morning."

"No Dad, there's no time for that..." Dean started.

"We won't do Sam any good if we collapse from exhaustion. We'll be able to think clearer in the morning. We'll grab a quick dinner, then hit the sack," John replied.

"Dad's right Dean. I can't even think straight. We need to sleep," Daniel said, giving Dean's knee a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah...fine. But we're up early, and we're not sitting around here anymore. He's heading east, to Florida; I know it. I feel it."

"Why not Montana? He loved Whitefish. Remember Heather?" Daniel reminded Dean.

"Yeah, but I just feel he's heading to Florida. He really misses Nick. He had almost a year there. Really made a lot of friends. He's heading to Florida." Dean rose from the couch and headed for the kitchen. The two oldest Winchesters rose and followed him. Caleb and Bobby brought up the rear, each with the same thought running through their heads.

If they didn't find Sam alive and well, this family would never recover.

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**Meanwhile, near Phoenix**

Darkness fell quickly over the Arizona desert and as the sun set, the temperature dropped. Deputy Alan Ridgeway was happy to see the change in the temperature as he knew that as it got closer to Summer, the day time temps would rise and the night time temps would stay high. Deputy Ridgeway was originally from Wisconsin and moved to Arizona eight years ago. He had never gotten used to the heat and dreaded the summer months. As he headed down the secondary highway toward Phoenix, Deputy Ridgeway caught sight of what appeared to be a tire sticking up from the ditch on his side of the roadway. He turned his flashing lights on and pulled over onto the shoulder. He reached for his flashlight then exited his patrol car.

Deputy Ridgeway skirted down the embankment and quickly reached the car, dropping down to his knees beside the door nearest the road, which because of the car being on it's roof was the driver's door. He shone his light into the broken window and illuminated the bruised and bloody face of the male driver. He reached his hand in and placed two fingers on the unconscious man's neck. He felt a weak pulse. He scooted forward a bit so he could see into the rest of the vehicle as he used his shoulder radio to call for emergency crews to be dispatched immediately.

The deputy leaned down and peered to the other side of the car. When the beam from his flashlight fell on the other occupant of the car, he sucked in a breath of shock. His eyes widened as he took in the battered form of the bound and gagged boy, who unlike the driver was belted into his seat and hung upside down. "What the hell?" he whispered to himself. He panicked as he realized that due to the amount of blood pooling around the boy's nose and the gag on his mouth, he may be having trouble breathing, if he hadn't already suffocated. The deputy rushed to the other side of the car and attempted to pull the door open, but it would not budge. He dropped to the ground and found that although the window was cracked, it was not fully broken. He used his heavy flashlight to frantically beat on the window until it shattered. Once all of the glass was cleared away, he pushed his upper body through then pulled the duct tape from the boy's mouth. He put his hand up to the boy's mouth and felt a slight whisper of air. He then felt for a pulse, finding it to be weak but steady.

Deputy Ridgeway radioed for a second ambulance once he verified there were no more victims in the backseat. He proceeded to shine his light on the boy, taking inventory of his condition. His stomach recoiled when he noticed the bruises on the boy's lips and mouth and the red marks covering his neck and upper chest. Bile rose in his throat when he saw the swollen and bruised bite mark on the boy's left pectoral muscle. He shone his light on the driver, revulsion and fury lighting his eyes. The deputy continued his examination, lightly fingering a deep cut on the boys right cheek. He spotted blood matted hair on the right side of his head and found a serious three inch gash. 'Concussion,' the man thought absently.

Deputy Ridgeway rested his hand on the boys left cheek, gently rubbing circles with his thumb over his temple. He didn't know if the boy was aware, but he wanted to provide comfort as best he could. He spoke soft words of encouragement while waiting for the emergency crews to arrive.

"Don't you worry kid. I won't let him hurt you anymore. You're safe now. Just hold on for me, okay?"

Deputy Ridgeway breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the first sirens in the distance. Within ten minutes, several fire engines, paramedic crews, and ambulances were lining the roadway. Several more sheriff's cars had shown up and deputies searched the area with flashlights for any evidence. Sheriff Randall Carver himself showed up when he heard of the circumstances of the accident. The rescue crews and paramedics had been informed that the boy was number one priority. The driver was being attended to, but nobody at the scene held much sympathy for a man who had apparently abducted, assaulted and restrained a teenaged boy.

Forty five minutes later, both victims had been removed from the vehicle and were enroute to the Phoenix Medical Center. A tow truck was being used to turn the car upright. Once the car was righted, deputies went through it, retrieving a backpack from the backseat and a wallet with Louisiana ID from the glove box. No identification was found in the backpack, although a dead and damaged cellphone was recovered. Deputy Ridgeway hoped the phone could be repaired so the boy's identity would be easier to establish. Right now he was a John Doe. The only clue to his identity were the initials S.W. written in black marker on the backpack.

Deputy Ridgeway climbed behind the wheel of his patrol car and headed to Phoenix. He would not be going home until he knew if the boy would survive. He thought of his own son and how he would feel if he were missing. He would want someone to care enough to make sure his boy wasn't alone. Deputy Ridgeway would not rest until this boy was reunited with his family. The deputy was brought out of his thoughts when his onboard computer beeped, indicating his identity search using the drivers ID was complete. He pulled to the side of the road and brought up the results. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when he saw what came up.

"Son of a bitch!" he cried to himself.

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**Hey!!! No evil cliffy! How about that. Sammy has been found! Yay!!!!!!!!!!!! Please review. Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Wow, thanks guys!! I have the computer for a few minutes so I thought I'd post a quick chapter for you. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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Dr. Robert Drake was the on duty pediatric physician at Phoenix Medical Center that evening. Many people compared him to George Clooney's character on ER, not because of his looks, but because of his deep compassion for children. He would go to any lengths for his young patients so it was no surprise that when the call came in that a young teenaged accident victim with special circumstances was on the way, Dr. Drake was waiting at the ambulance bay when the rig arrived carrying the seriously injured boy. When the doors opened and the gurney was wheeled from the rig, Dr. Drake got his first look at his patient. He was taken aback at the sight of the boy. The entire right side of his face was covered in bruises and contusions, his right eye swollen shut, and a large cut marred his right cheek. Bandages were wrapped around his head indicating a scalp laceration. The boy was unconscious and completely oblivious to the jostling he was put through.

"Okay folks, give me the rundown," Dr. Drake instructed as he rushed alongside the gurney into the trauma unit of the hospital.

"Teenage male, approximately 15-17 years of age, found belted in, hanging upside down in passenger seat of vehicle involved in a rollover accident. Deep laceration to right cheek, possible cheekbone fracture; bruised and swollen jaw, right side, possible fracture; head laceration, right side; two individual bruises and lumps on forehead, one possibly one to two days old; pupils blown indicates serious to severe concussion; patient has not been conscious and does not respond to painful stimuli; broken ribs, right side with reduced breath sounds; bruised and swollen stomach, possible internal bleeding; possible broken but most likely sprained right wrist; bruised right shoulder and hip," the male EMT recited as they hurried the gurney into trauma room #3.

"The incoming report spoke of special circumstances. Please enlighten me," the doctor requested.

Both EMT's exhanged glances that did not go unnoticed by the doctor, then the female EMT spoke. "The boy was bound and gagged with duct tape, then restrained with the seat belt. He has bruising around his mouth and on his lips, his inner lips are cut and bleeding. He has contusions covering his neck and collarbone area and a deep bite mark on his left pectoral region. He was found clothed only in his jeans."

Dr. Drake stopped his ministrations, staring down at the boy. The trauma room became quiet as realization hit the many medical personel caring for him. Dr. Drake was the first to speak.

"Alright people, we have a job to do. Let's get this boy stablized and then we'll deal with the other possibilities later."

This began a flurry of activity that ended with Sam being sent to surgery to determine the cause of his internal bleeding. It was determined to be a slow bleed, but serious none the less. He had been intubated when his breathing became more labored, and a chest tube had been inserted through his ribs to re-inflate his semi-collapsed lung. His broken ribs were taped and his wrist bandaged. His cheek and scalp had been stitched and his jaw determined to be deeply bruised. The bite mark on his chest had required stitching. He would be given a CT scan once his surgery was complete to determine the severity of his concussion.

Dr. Drake moved toward the doors leading to the OR area but stopped when he heard a voice calling him. He turned to see a deputy sheriff rushing toward him. He waited for the deputy to reach him before speaking.

"Can I help you deputy?"

"Yes, I hope so. I'm Deputy Ridgeway. Are you the doctor treating the teenaged John Doe from the accident?" the deputy inquired.

"Yes. I'm Dr. Robert Drake. What can I do for you?"

"How is he? Will he be okay?"

"He's on his way to surgery. He has internal bleeding and a very serious concussion. He has numerous other less serious injuries, but I have listed him as in critical but stable condition. Are you the deputy who found him?"

"Yes, I was first on the scene. Uh...doctor...I have reason to believe that the boy may have been sexually assaulted. Were there any indications of this?"

"Bruising on his lips and around his mouth plus cuts on his inner lips indicate hard, violent kissing. Contusions on his neck and upper chest were also present. A deep puncture bite wound on his left pectoral region indicate possible sexual assault, but we have not done a rape exam," the doctor replied.

"I'm requesting that you do one. The driver of the vehicle comes up in our system as the prime suspect in the abduction, sexual assault and strangulation murders of three teenaged boys in and around New Orleans. And he has now become the main suspect in several more identical crimes in two more states. I believe our John Doe would have been his next murder victim, and may already be a victim of sexual assault."

Dr. Drake stared at the deputy, a quiet fury raging beneath the surface. This boy had just become his top priority and he would do everything in his power to make sure that not only did he survive his injuries, but that he survived and overcame the emotional injuries he would have with having been victimized in such a way. Even if he did escape without being sexually assaulted, he obviously had been abducted and cruelly tortured and would no doubt be traumatized.

"I had planned on doing a rape exam after his surgery. Now, I must hurry. The boy is being prepped as we speak. Thank you Deputy Ridgeway."

"Dr. Drake, can you tell me the status of the driver?"

"I wasn't treating him. You'll need to find Dr. Cochran. Now, I really need to go." With that Dr. Drake rushed through the swinging doors, his heart heavy and hurting for his young patient.

Deputy Ridgeway turned and headed toward the reception desk to inquire on the whereabouts of one Dr. Cochran, while at the same moment a young boy was prepared for surgery to save his life; and in Santa Cruz a father and two brothers slept fitfully, their dreams turning to their most precious, and currently missing family member.


	12. Chapter 12

**I have my computer back and I get to use it for more than a few minutes at a time and it isn't sick anymore!! Yippee!!! Here is the next chapter for you all. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Cindy.**

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**Three Days Later**

"Damnit!" Daniel exclaimed as the three Winchesters exited yet another gas station empty handed, having yet to find anyone who had seen Sam over the past week.

"Calm down Dan," John said to his usually level headed oldest son.

"Calm down? We've been on the road for three days, stopping at every town and in every crap ass place in said town and nobody's seen Sam! We should have headed to Montana!" Daniel cried in frustration.

Dean, usually the hot headed one, placed his hand on his brother's arm as he spoke. "Daniel, just calm down. I know this is hard, but we'll find Sam. I know we're headed in the right direction."

"How do you know Dean? If he came this way, don't you think someone would remember seeing him? I mean, Sam kinda sticks out, you know?"

"I know Dan. He's pretty unique. Just trust me, please? Maybe Bobby and Caleb have something," Dean replied.

"Boys, let's hit that convenience store then we'll head out," John called out as he made to cross the street.

Daniel and Dean caught up to their father and all three men entered the convenience store together. They approached the counter and waited for the clerk to acknowledge them.

"Can I help you?" the twenty something man asked as he turned around.

"Have you seen this kid in here in the past week?" John asked as he held out a picture.

The clerk took the picture and studied it. "Yeah. He was in here three, four days back. Quiet kid."

The three Winchesters intently stared at the man, shocked into silence momentarily. They were so used to a negative response that when they got the contrary, they were stunned. Daniel was the first to find his voice.

"You saw him? Was he okay? Was he alone? Which way did he head?"

The man stared at Daniel for a moment before replying. Three sets of eyes were on the man as he spoke, the three men hanging on his every word. "Uh...he seemed okay. Quiet, like I said. He wasn't alone."

"What? Who was he with?" Dean spoke up.

"Um...there was a man and I'm assuming his wife and daughter. They pulled in for gas and grabbed some snacks and stuff. Is everything okay? Who is this kid?" the clerk inquired, taken aback by the men's intensity.

"He's my youngest son. These are his brothers. Did you see what they were driving? What direction did they go?" John replied.

"Uh, they were in a mini van. Silver I think. I think they headed east."

"Thanks for your help," Daniel said as they turned to leave the store.

"No problem. Hope you find him," the clerk said as he waved after them.

As the Winchesters were leaving, something caught Dean's eye and he rushed back to the counter. "Can you turn up the TV?"

The man looked at Dean with confusion, as did his father and brother. "Dean, what's wrong?" John asked as he stepped up to Dean's side, Daniel right behind.

"Just please turn it up!" Dean cried.

The clerk turned the volume up and the three Winchesters watched the news report that was playing on the screen.

_'Once again, if you recognize this backpack, shirt or cell phone please contact Deputy Alan Ridgeway at 602-555-3820. To remind you, this backpack and it's contents were found in the vehicle involved in the rollover accident three days ago near Phoenix Arizona in which an unidentified teenaged boy was found bound, gagged and unconscious. Police believe the driver of the vehicle, Michael Wilcox, abducted the boy with the intent to harm him. The number once more to call is 602-555-3820.'_

The news flash ended with another shot of the backpack and it's contents.

"Oh my God! That's Sam's backpack Dad. We have to get to Phoenix. Oh my God! What if he's..." Dean cried, his face a deathly white.

"He's not Dean. They would have said..." Daniel said as his stomach flipflopped.

"You think that's the kid you're looking for? Oh man...it's been all over the news..." the clerk started.

"What do you mean?" John snapped, fear and panic in his wild eyes.

"That Wilcox guy? They say he's the prime suspect in a bunch of abductions. They say he took all these teenaged boys, sexually assaulted them and then strangled them to death. If that's your kid...oh shit! I'm...," the clerk stammered.

"Dad? That's Sammy's stuff. What if..." Daniel started, his knees suddenly feeling like they wouldn't be able to hold him up.

"No! Nothing happened to him! We gotta go! NOW!" Dean screamed as he ran from the store and toward the Impala.

The older men rushed after him, their hearts hammering in their chests.

"Dean! Wait!" John shouted after his son.

Dean stopped then whirled around. "Dad, we have to get to Phoenix. Sammy's there and he's hurt and he's all alone. He maybe..."

"Just take it easy Dean. Let's call and talk to that deputy first. We don't even know where in Phoenix Sam is," John replied, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder.

The three men climbed into the Impala, then John pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for Deputy Ridgeway. Meahwhile, Daniel called Bobby to let him and Caleb know what had happened. He promised Bobby that as soon as they knew exactly where Sam was, they would call them and have them meet them there.

John's call was answered on the third ring. "Deputy Ridgeway, how may I help you?" the deep voice on the line asked.

"My name is John Winchester and I believe my son is the boy found in that rollover near Phoenix. Is he okay? Where is he?"

A quick intake of air was heard on the other end before the deputy spoke. "Mr. Winchester, what leads you to believe our John Doe is your son?"

"They showed his backpack on the news. His shirt and cellphone too. Please! Is my baby okay?"

"Okay John. May I call you John?"

"That's fine. Just please..."

"There is a set of initials on the backpack. What is your son's name?"

"Sam Winchester. My son is Sam Winchester."

Another sharp intake of air, "John, where are you right now?"

"We're about four hours west of Phoenix."

"Okay. The initials on the backpack are S.W. and a woman also called who recognized the pack. She said her family picked the boy up and dropped him at a motel on the outskirts of Phoenix. She said the boys name was Sam."

"Where is he? I need to find my boy!"

"The boy who I believe is your son was taken to Phoenix Medical Center. He is under the care of Dr. Robert Drake. I'll call Dr. Drake and let him know you are on your way. Now, he's going to require proof that you are who you say you are. The staff have become quite protective of Sam."

"I understand. Can you tell me how my son is? Please, is he okay?"

"Sam's alive, John. He was seriously injured, but he's in good hands. John, I'll see you at the hospital and we can talk more. Call me when you arrive."

"Thank you so much," John said, then ended the call. He turned to his boys, hope in his eyes for the first time in a week. "Sam's at the Phoenix Medical Center."

"He's alive? Is he okay? Did that bastard...?" Daniel started as Dean brought the Impala to life and screeched out onto the road leading to the highway.

"He's alive. He was hurt pretty badly. I just don't know anymore. Let's just get to Phoenix and we'll find out."

Dean glanced at his dad, his jaw clenched as he sped down the off ramp to the highway. He looked in his rearview mirror and met Daniel's eyes. No words were spoken, but both nodded in acknowledgement. _'Let's go get our brother back.'_

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Dr. Robert Drake stood at the bedside of his most important patient. He gazed at the boy's pale face and the deep bruises that covered the right side of it. He flinched every time he looked at the tube coming from the boy's mouth, the tube that was attached to the ventilator that was helping the boy to breathe. He'd seen this kind of thing so many times, but for some reason this time it was different. This patient touched him like no other had before. Of course, he was always passionate about the care of his young patients, but this boy brought something out in him that surprised him. He was deeply protective of him and was unable to put him out of his mind, even when he was home playing with his own children. Maybe it was the circumstances of the situation. On how this young man came to be his patient.

Dr. Drake's eyes strayed to his patient's neck, to the red marks that were just now beginning to fade. What had he been through? What had he been feeling and thinking when he was in Wilcox's grasp? How had the accident happened that had ultimately saved him? These were just a few of the questions that plagued the doctor. Questions that would have to wait to be answered until the boy awoke. One question that stood out above all others was where was his family? Where were the people who were supposed to love him?

Dr. Drake jumped slightly when his cellphone rang. He reached into his pocket and pulled the phone out, then flipped it open.

"Dr. Drake," he said into the phone.

"Robert, this is Alan Ridgeway."

"Alan, how are you? How goes the investigation?"

"Look...I just got off the phone with a John Winchester. He's identified the backpack and it's contents as belonging to his son. Our John Doe's name is Sam Winchester."

"Are you sure? This guy could be anyone," the doctor asked suspiciously.

"I told him there were initials on the backpack and asked what his son's name was. It fits the initials. And that coupled with the woman who also identified the pack and said the boy who carried it said his name was Sam."

"That's not a lot to go on, but if you believe that's who he is, then I'll trust your judgement."

"I know you're trying to protect the boy Robert, but I get the feeling this guy is legit. I told him you would require proof of who he is. He's on his way there. He's about four hours out. I told him to ask for you."

"Fine. I'll wait for him to arrive. So you really think we've found this kid's family?"

"Yes, I do. I told Mr. Winchester to call me when he arrives so I can meet with him also."

"That's fine. I better get back to my patient."

"How is he doc? Any change?"

"No, not really. We still have him sedated after what happened yesterday and he's still on the ventilator. He seems to be getting weaker if anything. Maybe once his father gets here, things will turn around."

"I hope so. I've kinda developed a soft spot for that kid."

"Yeah, you and everyone else around here. Myself included."

"So, any word on Wilcox?"

"He's still in a coma. Still on life support."

"When is that bastard going to die?"

"The family has been notified, but so far no one has shone up. We can't take him off life support without the families consent. If he's going to die, he's going to have to do it on his own."

"It's pretty bad when not even your own family shows up at your bedside when you're lying in a coma. Can't say I blame them. And him dying? The sooner the better I say."

"I'm a doctor but I think you know how I feel about that."

"Yeah doc. See you in about four hours."

"See you Alan."

Dr. Drake flipped his phone shut and returned his attention back to his patient. He stepped closer and gently took Sam's hand.

"Your family is on the way Sam. You need to show them how strong you are. You need to fight Sam."

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**So, what did you think? So, it looks like there is a reunion at hand. It's coming soon. Please let me know what you think and there will be more tomorrow.**

**Cindy.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay folks. Have a longer chapter for you. You may need a few hankies. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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**Three hours later**

All eyes turned to the front entrance at Phoenix Medical Center when three haggard looking men stormed into the lobby. The men approached the service desk and each gave slight smiles when the elderly attendant greeted them.

"How may I help you today?" the lady asked sweetly.

"We're here to see Dr. Robert Drake. I'm John Winchester and these are my sons, Daniel and Dean. Can you please page Dr. Drake?"

"Do you have an appointment Mr. Winchester?"

"No. No appointment, but Dr. Drake is expecting me. Look, my youngest son is the boy from the rollover accident. I've already spoken with Dr. Drake on the phone. Please, just page him."

The woman's eyes grew large and were filled with sympathy. "I'll call him down right away. You may have a seat over there," she said, pointing to a seating area across the lobby.

"Thanks, but I think we'll stand," Daniel said with a tired smile.

The woman smiled and picked up the phone then dialed a number. After a few moments she began to speak. "Yes, Dr. Drake? There are three men here to see you. They said you are expecting them? Uh...John Winchester, yes, that's his name...Very well, I'll let them know you'll be right down."

The woman hung up the phone then turned her attention back to the Winchesters. "Dr. Drake will be down in a few minutes."

"Thanks ma'am," Dean responded, then turned just in time to see Bobby and Caleb coming down a hall towards them.

"Bobby, Caleb. How long have you been here?" Dean asked as he accepted Caleb's hand.

"'Bout thirty minutes. You guys made good time," Caleb replied.

"Yeah, well you know Dean," John quipped.

"Have you guys found anything out about Sam?" Daniel asked.

"No. Nothing. They wouldn't tell us anything. Told 'em we were Sam's uncles, but they are being pretty tight lipped," Bobby replied.

"I guess they're just protecting him," John stated.

The five men fell into a nervous silence as they waited for Dr. Drake to arrive. Dean and Daniel paced the lobby, glancing at the clock, then each other. A tall man with dark hair and a warm smile walked into the lobby a few minutes later and the five men rushed to him. The doctor stopped upruptly, taken aback by the men's appearances. "Is one of you John Winchester?" he asked the group.

John stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "I'm John Winchester," he said as the doctor shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Winchester. I'm Robert Drake. I've been taking care of Sam."

"Please, call me John. These are my sons, Dean and Daniel. And these are Sam's uncles, Bobby and Caleb."

Dr. Drake shook each man's hand in turn. "It's nice to meet you all. Why don't you follow me and we'll talk in private."

"Dr. Drake? How is my brother? Is he okay?" Dean asked nervously.

"Dean, right?"

Dean nodded and the doctor continued. "Before I can give you any information on my patient, I need to establish that you all are who you claim to be. I hope you understand that I am trying to protect Sam."

"You're calling him Sam. You must believe us," Daniel quipped.

"Well, I prefer Sam to 'the boy' or 'John Doe'. But yes, I think you are who you say you are. I still need proof."

The doctor came to a door marked 'Private' and pushed the door open. He stood aside while the other men entered then followed them in, closing the door behind him. He motioned for them all to take a seat, and all but Dean and Daniel complied.

"Alright, let's get this done so we can talk about Sam," John said as he pulled some papers from his jacket pocket. "This is a copy of Sam's birth certificate, his social security card, and this is a picture of he and his brothers. Here is my ID."

John slid the items across the table and the doctor took them. He examined the photo carefully, then slid the items back to John.

"The boy in the picture is the boy under my care. It's a little difficult to recognize him because of the injuries to his face, but that's him."

The five men sucked in quick breaths and looked at the doctor with imploring eyes.

"Please doctor, how is my son? What happened to him?" John asked, the exhaustion from the past week displayed on his face.

"I'll tell you everything about his condition. I'll let Deputy Ridgeway fill you in on the investigation when he arrives. Did you call him?"

John nodded, then looked at the doctor expectantly. Dean and Daniel sat down and waited for the doctor to speak.

"Sam was in critical condition when he arrived at the hospital. His visible injuries were numerous. Bruising to his forehead, some of which was a few days old; a cut and cracked cheekbone on the right side; a large gash on his scalp, also right side along with a deeply bruised jaw. His right hip and shoulder are deeply bruised. We think he crashed into the passenger door several times in the rollover. That would explain the majority of his injuries occurring on the right side of his body. Luckily, his neck wasn't injured."

Dr. Drake gave the men a moment to absorb what they had been told before continuing. "Now, his more hidden and worrisome injuries were a severe concussion; broken ribs and punctured lung on the right side; and internal bleeding. Sam was placed on a ventilator when his right lung collapsed. We reinflated it but he remains on the ventilator. We performed surgery to find and repair the internal bleeding. Sam had a ruptured spleen, which had to be removed as it was too damaged to repair. Now this means that he will be more vulnerable to infections so he needs to be very careful about getting sick or injured."

Dr. Drake watched the men's faces as they digested the multitude of injuries described to them. The two youngest men, Sam's brothers, looked ready to pass out at any time. The two uncles looked to be in shock, and John looked plain pissed, along with an underlying look of despair.

"Is Sam going to be okay? Has he been awake?" the oldest of the uncles asked when no one else spoke.

"Sam regained consciousness yesterday morning, but became so agitated we were afraid he would hurt himself further. We had to sedate him in order to keep this from happening. He hasn't woken since as we've kept him sedated. With him being intubated, we can't have him agitated. To be quite frank, I'm surprised that Sam even survived the trip to the hospital. He's quite the fighter, but now he seems almost to be giving up. His vitals have worsened slightly and his condition is weakening. I think you all being here is going to help immensely."

Dean sat stone faced while Daniel buried his face in his hands before brushing his hands through his hair. John stood and walked to the window, peering out over the parking lot. Bobby and Caleb sat quietly, allowing the Winchesters time to recover. John finally turned from the window and glanced at the doctor. His heart thundered loudly in his chest as he worked up the courage to ask his next question. Finally he spoke.

"Dr. Drake. The information we were given says that Sam was abducted by a man wanted for sexually assaulting and murdering several teenaged boys."

"Yes, that's true," the doctor replied softly.

"Was Sam...was my baby brother...raped?" Daniel asked fearfully.

Dr. Drake sighed then spoke. "We performed a rape exam on Sam based upon information we had and certain injuries we were aware of. Sam was not raped."

"Oh thank God..." Dean exclaimed as he sagged in his chair.

"You said he had certain injuries that led you to believe an exam was needed. What were those injuries?" Caleb asked.

"He has deep bruises around his mouth and on his lips plus his inner lips are cut from his teeth. These injuries indicate to us hard, violent kissing."

There was a unified gasp from all five men, and John sank onto his chair, unable to remain standing. The two brothers looked ill, and the uncles simply sat wide eyed and silent.

"Should I continue?" Dr. Drake asked.

"Please..." John whispered.

"Sam's neck, throat and collarbone region are covered with red contusions, hickies as they are commonly called. And...he had a deep bite mark on his left pectoral area just above his nipple. I'm sorry, but this bite was deep enough that it will scar. Sam will always have it."

Dean upruptly pushed back in his chair and stood, turning his back to the other men. His shoulders shook as sobs racked his frame. Daniel rose, his own tears streaming down his face, and pulled his brother into his arms.

"Shhh Dean...it's okay. Sam will be okay. We'll make sure of it," Daniel whispered in his brother's ear.

"My fault...my fault..." Dean chanted between sobs.

John reached his sons and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "This is not your fault Dean. This is not your fault."

Dean pulled away from his family and turned on the doctor. "That son of a bitch who did this! Where is he? Where is he!?" Dean screamed as he lunged at the doctor.

Caleb intercepted Dean, attempting to calm him down. "Dean, take it easy. You don't want to do anything you'll regret later."

"Oh...I won't regret ripping that pervert freak limb from limb!" Dean shouted.

Just then the door opened and a deputy sheriff charged into the room, his hand on his weapon. Dr. Drake rushed to the deputy and placed his hand on his arm.

"It's okay Alan. It's okay."

Deputy Ridgeway stood down, eyeing the frantic young man in front of him.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

"Alan, these are the Winchesters. This is John, Sam's father. And this is Dean and Daniel, Sam's brothers. His uncles, Bobby and Caleb. I've just told them of Sam's injuries."

Deputy Ridgeway calmed and nodded at the men. He glanced at Dean who nodded, then lowered his eyes. Deputy Ridgeway approached John, his hand outstretched.

"John, glad to meet you."

John shook the deputies hand and nodded. He looked the deputy in the eye before he spoke. "Please tell me...what happened to my son?"

"I came upon the accident at approximately 8:00 PM. The car was on its roof and was totaled. I reached the wreck and was checking on the driver when I looked to the passenger seat. I saw Sam hanging upside down from the seat belt. He had duct tape over his mouth. I went to his side of the car and broke the window, then climbed through. I removed the gag because Sam's nose was bleeding and I was afraid he would suffocate. I found that Sam's ankles were bound with duct tape as well as his wrists, which were bound behind his back. That's when I noticed the bite mark and realized what might have happened. Sam was only clothed in his jeans. His shirt, socks and shoes were missing."

"Deputy Ridgeway, thank you for finding my brother. Thank you so much," Daniel said, shaking the man's hand.

"I'm just glad I came along when I did."

"What caused the accident? Do you know?" Dean inquired.

"No. It's a straight stretch. Speed I'm sure was a factor, but what actually caused the wreck I can't be sure of. My guess is that Sam really didn't want this guy to take him anywhere. I think Sam caused it to try and stop him. We won't know for sure until he wakes up."

"That sounds like Sam. He would have fought tooth and nail to get away from this guy," John said with pride.

John and the deputy stepped aside as the deputy filled John in on the investigation. Once he was done, Deputy Ridgeway excused himself so he could get his investigation.

"Dr. Drake, can we see Sam now? We've been searching for him for a week. We need to see him. Please..." John asked, his voice near pleading.

"If you'll follow me, I'll take you to him."

"Thanks doc," Daniel said as they followed the doctor from the room.

"Sam is in the Pediatric Critical Care Unit. He has his own private room, so you'll be able to stay with him around the clock. I've already set it up."

"Thanks. What can we expect when we see him?" John asked.

"He's still quite bruised, and he's still on the ventilator. He has a bandage over the cut on his cheekbone and another wrapped around his head. He's still unconscious, but now that you're here, we'll reduce the sedative so he can start to wake up. I'm hoping if he sees you when he wakes up, he won't become so agitated."

After a silent ride three floors up in the elevator they stepped out onto the Pediatric floor. Dr. Drake led them down a long hallway until they came to two large doors that entered into the PCCU. They stepped through the doors and walked a short distance before stopping in front of room P321. The three Winchesters stared at the door as their hearts pounded in their chests.

"So, don't expect Sam to wake right away. The sedative needs to wear off. If he does wake and become agitated or scared because of the intubation tube, just try to calm him as best you can. We'll take the tube out when he wakes."

"Thanks doctor. Can we go in now?" John asked anxiously.

"Yes. Now, just talk to him. He's slipping a bit but if he hears your voices, I think it will really help. Keep talking and touching him to let him know you're here. Let him know you love him."

"I'm not sure he'll believe us. Not after what happened..." Dean started.

"Dean...don't think like that," Daniel retorted.

"Let's go see your brother," John said then pushed through the door.

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Six men entered the hospital room and five stopped ubruptly when they caught sight of the still form on the bed. The first thing they saw was the tube protruding from Sam's mouth with the ventilator attached. His chest rose and fell with the unnatural rhythm of the ventilator. He had a tube running into his nose that looked like it would be painful. The entire right side of his face was covered in bruises and a white bandage covering his cheek stuck out in sharp contrast to the deep purples surrounding it. A white bandage was wrapped around his head holding the thick pad that covered Sam's head wound. A small amount of crimson bled through the bandage. They could see from where they stood the red marks covering Sam's neck and deep anger coursed through them at the man who had dared to touch their precious boy.

A small sob escaped Dean as he finally moved to the left side of the bed, followed by Daniel. He took Sam's limp hand in his, being mindful of the IV's attached there. John and the doctor stepped to Sam's right. Bobby and Caleb moved to the end of the bed, neither able to take their eyes off the youngest Winchester.

"What's the tube in his nose for?" Daniel asked the doctor.

"It's a feeding tube. We force nutrients into Sam's stomach through the tube. He can't get nearly enough nutrients just through the IV so in order to keep his strength up until he can eat on his own, we have the feeding tube in."

Daniel nodded his understanding.

"Sam? Sammy, it's Dean. Can you hear me little brother?" Dean started, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of Sam's hand.

John took his other hand then reached up and gently caressed the side of his face, just under the bandage on his cheek.

"Hey kiddo," his gruff voice started. "We're all here. We looked everywhere for you Sammy."

Daniel stood silently, his overwhelming emotions keeping him from speaking. A single tear rolled down his cheek and he lightly brushed it away. He placed his hand on Sam's leg, hoping the touch would be enough for the moment.

"Sammy, can you wake up for us?" Dean pled, his eyes scanning his baby brother's body before settling once more on his face. He could barely make out some of the bruising around Sam's mouth as the tape holding the vent tube in place covered most of it. Fury burned in him and he looked up to the doctor.

"The son of a bitch who did this. Please tell me he's worse off than Sammy. Please tell me he didn't walk away with a few scratches. Because if he did, I will hunt him down and cut him into little tiny pieces," Dean threatened.

"Michael Wilcox is in intensive care in a deep coma. He's on life support and is not expected to regain consciousness. Unlike Sam, he was not restrained when the accident occurred," Dr. Drake replied.

"Is the prick going to die?" Daniel asked, his eyes never leaving Sam's face.

"Eventually, yes. His organs have started to shut down and he's been brain dead since he was brought in."

"Good. That's good. Asshole got what he deserved! Way to go Sam," Bobby exclaimed.

The other men nodded their agreement then went back to staring at the silent boy on the bed. They listened to the steady beep of the heart monitor as it signaled that Sam's heart was still beating, and the gentle whoosh of the ventilator as it performed it's duty of breathing for him.

Finally, Dr. Drake spoke up. "Well, I'm going to leave you for now. I'll be in later to check on Sam. Keep talking to him. He should start coming around in the next five to eight hours. There's a hotel a few blocks from here. I suggest you get a room or two and take turns going and getting some rest. Sam's going to be here awhile and you can't get proper rest sitting in these hospital chairs. Like I said earlier, I've informed the nursing staff that you are allowed to stay around the clock. You're cleared to come and go as you please. There will be times when you will be asked to leave for awhile so Sam can be bathed and examined, but other than that, the room is yours."

John turned to the doctor and shook his hand firmly. "Thank you for saving my son, and for watching over him. We owe you everything."

"No thanks are necessary. Sam is quite special to me, to the entire PCCU staff actually. I'm just glad he's been reunited with his family. It's the best medicine he could receive."

With that, the doctor nodded at the other men, then left the room. Bobby grabbed a chair from the corner and pushed it up to John who appreciatively accepted it and sat down, never releasing Sam's hand. Caleb did the same for Dean and Daniel and they nodded their thanks as they took up their posts on the other side of the bed.

"Bobby and I will go get a couple of rooms and give you guys some privacy," Caleb said to John as he moved up the right side of the bed. He placed his hand on Sam's knee and squeezed gently. "Hey squirt. You need to wake up before your dad and brothers go completely wacko here. They're bad enough as it is. Seriously Sam, please wake up. We all miss ya, you little shit!"

Caleb took a deep breath, willing the tears that threatened to fall to back off. He gazed at the unconscious boy on the bed, the boy he considered to be as close to a little brother as you could get. He moved his hand to John's shoulder then nodded his goodbye. He stepped alongside Bobby and they turned to leave.

"Bobby? Caleb?" Daniel said. They turned to him and waited for him to continue. "Thank you. You know, for everything. Just...thanks."

"Ain't no need to thank us. You all are family and we love that kid. We're happy to help," Bobby replied with a tired smile. Daniel nodded and the two hunters left the Winchesters as they began their bedside vigils.

Three sets of eyes watched and three voices spoke. They spoke words of encouragement, words of regret, words of apology. But most of all, they spoke of their love for the heart of their family. They could only hope that Sam could hear them and would come back to them soon. They needed him desperately, never realizing until now just how much.

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**There you go. I hope that satisfied. I don't know if I'll get another chapter in tonight, but I will try. I have quite a few errands to run for my teenager! lol Please review.**

**Cindy.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay, I have another chapter for you all. I am overwhelmed once again at the response I've received for this story. Thank you all so much. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam liked it here. Here he wasn't in pain and he didn't have some psycho perv touching him. He could recall that his family hated him, but here it just didn't seem to matter. Sam wanted to stay here where he could remain numb to everything that hurt him, but these faraway voices kept talking to him, keeping him from sinking further into the abyss, further away from the pain. And now the numbness was beginning to fade and was being replaced with dull pain. He wished those voices would just leave him alone. He felt he should know whom they belonged to and had even thought they sounded somewhat like his family, but that was ridiculous. Dad and his brothers didn't know where he was and even if they did, they certainly wouldn't be there talking to him. His family never talked to him. They talked at him, but never to him.

Sam couldn't quite make out what the voices were saying, but he could sense the weariness and desperation behind the unknown words. Why were they talking to him? Didn't they have someone else they could bug? The dull pain was fast becoming an aching throb and the voices were getting more insistant. Sam was starting to pick out some of the words now.

_'Wake up S..my'_

_'...need you...up'_

"No! I don't want to wake up!" Sam thought. "Go bother someone else!"

_'m sorry Sammy.'_

"What? Is that Dean?" Sam strained to hear now, certain the voice belonged to his brother. But it couldn't be Dean. Dean didn't apologize to anyone, especially to him. Maybe it was a demon trying to trick him. That made more sense than Dean telling him he was sorry. But why would a demon be trying to make him think Dean was sorry?

_'Sam, we need you. Please wake up.'_

"Dad? No way, Dad doesn't need me. None of them need me." Now Sam was really confused. It sounded like his dad, but Sam knew for a fact that he wasn't needed. His dad made sure he knew that every time he told him what a screw up he was and when he told him he would never measure up to his brothers. But God, it sounded like his dad. And what he wouldn't give to find out his family needed him. That his dad needed him.

The pain was building in Sam's head as he strained to hear and understand the voices, now nearly convinced that they did belong to his family. He fought his way to the surface of the emptiness he was drowning in, even though the closer he got to the surface, the greater the pain became.

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Dean leaned against the bed, his weary eyes fixed on Sam's still lax face. He, Daniel and John had been here talking to Sam, watching over him for nearly seven hours now and still Sam slept on. _'The kid's stubborn even in unconsciousness,'_ Dean thought absently. He held Sam's hand in his, unwilling to break that connection for even a moment. Daniel sat to Dean's left, his hand resting on Sam's leg. John was on the other side of the bed, his fingers gently brushing through Sam's hair above the bandages.

"Wake up Sammy," Daniel softly pled as he gingerly squeezed Sam's leg. "We need you to wake up."

Dean glanced at Daniel with tired, sad eyes then turned back to Sam. He stood from his chair and leaned over the rail before speaking quietly into Sam's ear. "I'm sorry Sammy."

Dean flinched a little as he felt a slight twitch in Sam's fingers. He jerked his eyes to John who had also risen as he too had noticed a slight movement. Daniel followed the men and rose, his eyes searching Sam's face for a sign that he was indeed waking up. John looked to his two older sons, then back to his youngest.

"Sam, we need you. Please wake up," he pled, a slight quiver in his voice.

Sam's eyes began to move under his lids, and his head began to slightly rock from side to side. The three men watched, whispering words of encouragement as Sam slowly fought his way to the waking world. Without warning, his eyes flew open wide, the right one restricted somewhat by his still swollen face.

The moment his eyes opened, Sam began to gag and choke on the vent tube. Panic filled his eyes as they darted from one man to the next, pleading with them to help him. He tried reaching up to pull the tube out, but between his utter lack of strength and his father and brother holding his hands down, he was unable to do anything but panic. Then he heard a soothing voice, coaxing him to calm down.

"Sammy, it's okay. Calm down, it's helping you to breathe. Just calm down and the doctor will take it out."

Sam's eyes turned to the voice, and he began to calm when he saw Dean's concerned face peering at him. He caught movement beside Dean and was just able to catch a glimpse of Daniel as he rushed to the door to call for help. Sam turned his eyes back to Dean, listening to his voice instructing him to let the machine do the work for him. He could hear another voice on the other side of him, but couldn't tear his eyes away from his brother. A soft caress on his face forced him to turn and his eyes fell on his dad's relieved and worn face, a smile curving his lips as he spoke.

"God Sam, you had us so scared. We've been so worried. We thought we lost you son."

Sam stared at John, then his attention was jerked away when a strange man pushed past his dad, causing Sam to press into the bed in fear. The man leaned over him and Sam once again began to panic. Daniel's voice cut through the panic, it's gentleness immediately calming him.

"It's okay Sam. This is your doctor. He's going to take out the tube. Calm down little brother."

"Sam, I'm Dr. Drake. I'm going to remove your breathing tube but you need to relax. Can you do that for me?" the doctor asked kindly.

Sam slowly nodded and closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow it's frantic pace.

"Okay, that's good Sam. Now, when I say to, I need you to cough out as I pull out the tube. Do you understand Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes and nodded. He waited for the doctor to be ready and when he gave the go ahead, Sam coughed out and Dr. Drake pulled the tube from his throat. Sam broke into a coughing, gagging fit. Flecks of blood speckled the sheets around him as well as his face. The three older Winchesters glared at the doctor in shock.

"What's that doc? Is he okay?" Daniel spat, worry creasing his forehead.

"It's perfectly normal. Just irritation in his throat from the breathing tube," Dr. Drake said as he began an examination of the still coughing Sam.

As the doctor went to examine Sam's eyes, Sam moaned, trying to roll to his side. "Sick..." he croaked before he began to heave bile and fluid all over his chest. Dr. Drake gently rolled him to the side as he continued to heave and Dean rubbed circles on his back in a comforting motion. Finally, the retching stopped and Dr. Drake gently rolled Sam back onto his back. He noted Sam's pale, sweat soaked face and placed his hand lightly on Sam's forehead.

"You're a little warm Sam. Now you rest and I'll get a nurse to come in and clean you and the bed up, then we'll get you something for that fever. Oh, and how about I take out that feeding tube?"

Sam weakly reached up, his fingers touching the tube running from his nose. He slowly nodded, then closed his eyes once more.

"Okay, this is going to be a little uncomfortable, but nothing like the breathing tube."

Dr. Drake grasped the tube then pulled it from Sam's nose in a steady, even line. Sam winced slightly then relaxed when the tube was free. He sank into his pillow, his brow furrowing as he squeezed his eyes shut. Dr. Drake looked at him with concern.

"Are you in a lot of pain Sam?"

Sam nodded and swallowed, wincing at the pain in his throat.

"Where do you hurt?" John asked, rubbing his youngest's arm.

"M'head," Sam rasped.

"Is that your only pain Sam?" Dr. Drake asked.

"No...mmm...'vry where," Sam moaned as all his injuries began to make themselves known.

"Okay. I'll get the nurse in here with some fever reducer and something for the pain. How's that sound?"

Sam groaned and nodded his head as tears squeezed out from his tightly shut eyes. His brothers and father eyed Sam with concern, then Dean turned to the doctor.

"Please hurry, he's in so much pain. Do something!" he cried.

"It'll only be a few minutes Dean," the doctor said then hurried from the room to give the instructions to the nurse in charge of Sam's care.

Daniel moved to Sam's side, taking his hand gently. "It's okay Sammy. We'll get you some medicine real soon and you'll feel better."

Sam opened his eyes and smiled softly at his oldest brother, then hissed through clenched teeth as a sharp jab of pain lanced through his head. He writhed on the bed, bringing tears to the eyes of the older Winchesters. Finally, the nurse arrived with two syringes in hand and proceeded to inject them into Sam's IV line, then she went about removing Sam's soiled gown and the upper sheets, replacing them with clean ones. Within seconds Sam had ceased writhing and had settled more comfortably into the bed. As his eyes began to close, he turned to John and smiled tiredly then whispered, "I'm sorry Daddy."

John took Sam's hand and gently replied, "Sorry for what Sammy?"

"I'm not like Dean and Daniel. Umm...I'm me. Not who you want Dad, and...mmm...'m sorry," Sam slurred as the pain medication pulled him further under.

"Oh Sammy, I don't want you to be like Dean and Daniel. I'm sorry I made you feel that way," John replied sadly, but realized that Sam was deep in sleep. He collapsed into his chair and dropped his face into his hands. He looked up to Daniel and Dean, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"I don't want him to be like you. I just want him safe. He's so...good. He can't see the bad in people, in the world. I want him to be Sam, but I want him to be safe. I can't lose him."

"Neither can we Dad, and we won't," Daniel said, once again taking his seat next to the bed. Dean sat too, his eyes trailing from John to Sam.

"Dad, Sam's always gonna be...Sam. And, he's tougher than any of us knew. He saved himself, I'm sure of that. Between all of us, we'll keep him safe. We just need to make him believe it's okay for him to be...him. That we want him to be the same old Sam."

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**Soooooo? **

**Cindy.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Here is the next chapter, a little earlier than normal. I hope you like it.**

**Cindy.**

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John, Bobby and Caleb talked absently over their coffee as they waited for Sam to be returned to his room. He had been taken for tests to rule out anything serious that would be causing his excrutiating headaches whenever he awoke. Twice since waking up the previous day he had woken only to be pounded with thunderous pain. Needless to say, the men watching over him including Bobby and Caleb had been beside themselves with concern. Dr. Drake had assured them that it was most likely because of the severe concussion he had suffered and was sure that nothing more serious was at work. He had given in though, his own worry hidden, and had ordered tests, including another c-scan for the following morning.

Dean and Daniel had been given a direct order from John to go to the hotel and get some much needed rest. They were told not to return for at least eight hours and had complied, but not without voicing their objections first. They were due to show up in exactly ten minutes as John knew they wouldn't be one minute past the eight hour mark. John himself had stayed with Sam, having slept in the sleeping chair the nurse had so kindly brought him. Sam had thankfully slept through the night and John had been able to get a full night of sleep himself.

At the eight hour mark, Dean and Daniel strolled into the room, coffee's in hand and immediately stopped when they saw Sam's empty bed. They looked questioningly to their dad, who shook his head and grinned.

"Jeez, when I said eight hours, you literally took eight hours," he said lightheartedly.

"Where's Sam?" Daniel asked, ignoring the comment.

"He's still out getting tests," Caleb offered as he reached for Daniel's hand. Daniel took it and gave it a firm shake.

"How was he this morning? Did he wake up?" Dean asked as he stood next to John.

"He woke for a short time, but was in so much pain they put him under again. Dr. Drake said it was better for him to be asleep during the tests anyway," John replied.

The men fell into small talk of past hunts, passing the time until Sam was brought back. A half hour later the door opened and Sam was wheeled back in on a gurney then carefully moved back onto his bed. Dean and Daniel immediately moved to either side of the bed once he was situated, each taking one of his hands in theirs. Sam's eyes slowly opened at the touch and he sleepily looked from one brother to the next.

"Hey," he whispered softly, a small grin lighting his face.

"Hey Sam. How you feeling?" Daniel asked with a smile.

Sam's grin faded a bit as he answered. "Head...still hurts, but...not as bad."

"Well, that's good then. It's getting better," Dean said, giving Sam's hand a gentle squeeze.

"You guys...get some sleep?" Sam asked worriedly, eyeing their still tired looking faces.

"Yeah Sammy, we did last night. Don't you worry about us okay?" Daniel replied, gently brushing his fingers through Sam's hair.

"Don't want...you getting sick...'cause of me," Sam slurred, the pain medication still heavy in his system.

"We're fine Sam. Now maybe you should go back to sleep because little brother, you look like crap!" Dean announced before letting out a little laugh.

"Jerk!" Sam rasped, his eyes heavy.

"Bitch!" Dean retorted, giving Sam's hand a squeeze.

Sam smiled, then his eyes slid shut and his breathing evened out. Daniel placed his hand gently back onto the bed, then slid a chair up and took a seat. Dean sat too, but did not let go of his brother's hand. John looked lovingly at his boys, his eyes coming to rest on his youngest. His heart swelled and he said a silent thanks to God for bringing his family back together. His thoughts turned to happier times, before Sam's rebellious streak showed up and a smile curled his lips. Now, he didn't care about anything other than having his baby back safe and sound. He'd take rebellion any day over the alternative.

All of the men were brought out of their thoughts when the door to the room opened and Dr. Drake walked in. He greeted each man with a nod then strode to Sam's bedside, checking his patient and smiling softly. Dean and Daniel rose, turning their attention to the doctor.

"So doc, is everything okay? Is Sammy okay?" Dean asked as worry tugged at his mind.

"The tests all indicate that Sam is indeed on the road to recovery. It's going to take time, but he is going to be just fine," the doctor replied.

"Then why is he having such painful headaches?" Daniel asked.

"As I said yesterday, he suffered a severe concussion. He had swelling in his brain, which has subsided considerably. He's going to experience headaches for quite some time, possibly for the rest of his life."

John paled a bit at this and looked at the doctor with concern. "The rest of his life? Will it be this bad?"

"No, they shouldn't get this bad. He's still healing right now. Extreme stress or illness could cause them to be more frequent and painful, but under normal circumstances they should be milder and few and far in between. Now, Sam needs to avoid anymore knocks to the head, as another concussion, even a mild one, could have very serious consequences."

The five hunters exchanged knowing glances, realizing in their line of work, concussions were a common occurance. Daniel absently reached over and caressed Sam's bare arm, more as a comfort to him than Sam. Dean was the first to speak.

"What could happen if he were to get another concussion?"

"Well, he could walk away unscathed or he could slip into a coma and never wake up. He could have seizures or he could even die. It just depends on the severity and the location," the doctor replied honestly.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to get Sammy a helmet, huh?" Dean quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood.

John sent Dean a glare, which earned him a shoulder shrug, then turned his attention back to the doctor.

"So, he's going to be okay? We just need to make sure he doesn't bang his head again? Well, seeing as Sam is a bit accident prone, that should be fun," John said sarcastically, knowing the other men knew he meant how the things they hunted always seemed to come after the youngest hunter. That is, when he was allowed on the actual hunt.

The other men gave him knowing looks, then glanced back at the doctor. Dr. Drake looked from one man to the next, not missing the looks they sent each other. He shrugged his shoulders, then spoke again.

"I talked with Deputy Ridgeway before I came in. He wants to talk with Sam later today to get his statement."

"Don't you think it may be a little early for that doc?" Caleb asked, concern for his young friend reflected in his eyes.

"Once Sam wakes again, I'm going to put him on a different pain medication during the day. It should keep him comfortable, but allow him to not be as drowsy. Deputy Ridgeway assured me he wouldn't need Sam for very long. I think Sam will be fine, but it is up to him of course. If he's not ready to talk about what happened, well his well being is my number one priority," the doctor replied.

John nodded then addressed the doctor. "If Sam is up for it, he can talk to the deputy. What time is he coming?"

"I told him to come around one o'clock this afternoon. I want to start Sam on some more solid food at lunchtime and then he can talk to Alan."

"Okay, but if Sam doesn't want to do it, will the deputy be okay with that? I'm not forcing my son to talk to him. He doesn't need that stress right now."

"I understand John. If Sam doesn't want to, Alan will be fine with that. He cares about Sam and certainly doesn't want to cause him any more pain."

"Fine. You can let him know that if Sammy says yes, he can come this afternoon."

"I'll let him know John. I'm going to do my rounds now. I'll check back later."

"Thanks doc," Dean said as the doctor left the room.

"Dad? Do you think it's a good idea having Sam give his statement so soon?" Daniel asked worriedly.

"We'll leave it up to him Daniel. It may be good for him to get it out."

Daniel nodded then took Sam's hand. "I just don't want him to have to relive it Dad. I want him to be able to forget it and move on."

"I know Daniel. We all want that and maybe talking about it will help that to happen. Let's just wait and see what Sam says, okay?"

"Yeah, okay Dad."

The five men settled themselves and waited for their youngest member to wake again. They all had mixed feelings about hearing Sam's story and became lost in their thoughts. Today, they may find out exactly what happened that day and it terrified them.

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Sam sat in bed, his eyes staring at his lap and his fingers fiddling with the edge of his blanket. The head of the bed was raised enough for Sam to see everyone in the room, but not high enough to cause him undo pain. The shades were drawn to keep the bright sunshine out, also helping to keep Sam's pain at a minimum. Dean and Daniel sat at the left side of his bed, John and Caleb at the right. Bobby stood next to the window and Deputy Ridgeway stood at the foot of the bed, a notebook and pen in hand.

"Sam, are you sure you want to do this today? If you're not up to it, we can wait," Deputy Ridgeway said.

"No, I...I'm fine," Sam said softly, not raising his eyes.

"Okay then. I'm just going to ask you to tell me what happened from the beginning. I will be recording this if that's okay with you."

"Uh...yeah, that's fine," Sam replied.

"Do you want to just speak to me?"

"No! Uh...I mean, I uh...I want my family here if that's okay," Sam said as he looked at his dad, fear in his eyes.

"That's fine Sam, they can stay if you want them to," Deputy Ridgeway said.

Sam relaxed a little and went back to fiddling with the blanket.

"Okay Sam. I've turned on the recorder. Now, please start from the beginning and tell me everything you remember from that day that led up to you being found in the wreckage of Michael Wilcox's vehicle," the deputy instructed.

"Um...okay. I was walking down the highway. I had been walking for hours and then this white car pulled up and the man inside asked if I wanted a ride. I said no, that I was okay. He said the next town was seventy miles and that it was too hot to be out walking. I was almost out of water, but I had a bad feeling. I thought it was because of what happened the night before. So I..."

"What happened the night before Sam?" Daniel asked with concern.

"I...I was staying at a motel and around midnight two guys broke into my room. They broke through the chain and I got hit with the door and..."

"Is that where the bruise on your forehead came from?" John asked.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. One of them anyway. So, one of the guys was the desk clerk. He must have called a friend. They tried to rob me."

"What happened then Sam?" Deputy Ridgeway inquired.

"I stopped them. Then I packed my stuff and got out of there before they came to. I found a lean-to at a park and spent the rest of the night there."

Deputy Ridgeway raised an eyebrow then glanced at John. John gave him a knowing grin then turned back to Sam.

"What was the name of the motel?" the deputy asked.

"Um...the Lazy Jay Motel I think," Sam answered.

Deputy Ridgeway wrote the information down then instructed Sam to continue.

"Okay, um...I got in the car and the guy said his name was Mike. He told me to put on my seatbelt and then we left. I was really tired but I didn't want to fall asleep. I guess I did because when I woke up he...uh...he," Sam stuttered.

"Sam, are you okay?" Dean asked taking Sam's hand.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just give me a minute," Sam replied.

"If you want to take a break Sam, we can," Deputy Ridgeway said.

"No...I'm fine. It's just hard, you know?"

"I know, just continue when you're ready."

Sam nodded then looked at John, who smiled slightly, but Sam saw something in his eyes that bothered him somewhat. He turned to his brothers and saw only encouragement there.

"Okay...um...when I woke up he was right next to me, touching my face. We weren't on the highway anymore. We were somewhere in the middle of the desert. I tried to push him away but he...he grabbed my head and he started...he started kissing me..." Sam stopped, a tear making it's way down his cheek.

Daniel stood and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam...we're here, it's okay. It's okay."

Sam lowered his head, tears falling freely now. He shook his head, wiping weakly at the tears. "I'm okay...sorry," he whispered.

Dean gave his hand a squeeze and smiled when Sam looked at him. Sam smiled, then continued.

"He started kissing me. Uh...it hurt, I tasted blood. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. He started kissing and biting my neck. I fought Dad, I did...please...I'm sorry!" Sam held back a sob as his eyes implored John to understand.

John reached a hand up to Sam's face, his eyes filled with tears. "Sam, I know you did. You have nothing to be sorry for son."

"Sam, why don't we finish this later. You look tired," Caleb said from his seat next to John, rage burning in his veins.

"No...I'm...if I don't do it now, I never will," Sam said as he pulled himself together.

"Sam, when you're ready, you can continue," Deputy Ridgeway said with sympathy.

"I'm ready now. Um...he was kissing my neck then he untucked my shirt and he put his hand up my shirt and started touching me. My stomach, then my chest and around to my back. Then he moved back around front and he...god...he tried to put his hand under my pants."

"Sam, stop now. Please..." Dean pled, rubbing his hand over his face. "Please."

"Dean... I need to do this...I'm sorry. I need to finish," Sam whispered.

"I...okay Sam...sorry...it's just hard to hear this," Dean replied, lowering his head.

"I know. You don't need to stay if you don't want to."

"No, I need to be here for you. I am here for you."

"Okay. Uh...when he tried to...you know...I kneed him in the ribs. I had to stop him. He fell back, then I hit him again I think. I got my seatbelt off then I tried to reach my backpack in the backseat because my phone was in there. I couldn't reach it though so I got out of the car, but he grabbed my shirt. I pulled away and my shirt ripped down the back. I uh...I ran and ran but my legs were like rubber and he caught up with me. He hit me from behind and knocked me down. He sat on my back, grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. He was pissed. He said he was going to hurt me, then he slammed my head down and everything went black until I woke up back in the car." Sam stopped as he dropped his eyes to his lap.

"What happened after you woke up?" the deputy asked.

"I couldn't move much. My hands were tied behind my back, with duct tape I think. My ankles were tied too, and my mouth was covered with duct tape. My chest hurt really bad but I couldn't see why. He started talking to me...telling me what he was going to do to me before he...killed me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't let him do that to me. Then he said...oh god...he said he wished he could be there when my family had to identify my body. He wanted to see your faces when they told you what had been done to me. I lost it. I couldn't let you see me like that. I couldn't. I turned as much as I could and brought my feet up and kicked him as hard as I could on his head. He turned to me stunned. I kicked him again in the face. He hit the window and he was out. The car swerved to the side of the road, then we were rolling. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up here." Sam finished, then collapsed back into his pillow, exhaustion showing plainly on his face. He reached up and rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the throb that pounded there.

Five men sat silent, watching the young man in the bed as he succumbed to his exhaustion. The story they had just heard tore at their hearts and souls. What Mike Wilcox had put him through, all the pain, and what drove Sam to the edge was what his family would go through if they had to find out what happened to him. Once again Sam put his family ahead of himself and at least two of the men felt nothing but shame. The two who had accused Sam of being selfish, of putting unimportant things before his family were aptly put in their places by his story.

Suddenly, Dean pushed up from his chair, a murderous look on his face.

"Dean! Where do you think you're going?" John demanded as he rose and hurried to his son.

"I'm gonna find that son of a bitch and I'm gonna kill him!" Dean seethed.

Bobby looked uncomfortably at the deputy, but he merely watched the exchange, never making a move to intervene.

"No Dean, you're going to stay right here."

"Dad, you heard what he did to Sam! How can you not want to rip him apart?"

"I do Dean, believe me. But, what good would we be to Sam if we're in jail for murder?"

"He doesn't deserve to still be breathing! He should be dead!" Dean sobbed.

John rested his hand on Dean's shoulder then pulled him into his arms. "We'll deal with this Dean, just not like that."

The men were brought out of their moment when the door to the room opened. Dr. Drake walked in, acknowledging the men. He nodded to the deputy, who sat quietly by the window. Daniel, Bobby and Caleb walked to the other two hunters, waiting to hear what the doctor had to say.

"John, I just thought you might want to know. Michael Wilcox died a half hour ago. He went into cardiac arrest and could not be resuscitated."

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**Ding dong, the bastards dead! But is he? This is Supernatural after all and we are only half way through this story so hmmmmmmmmmmmm....**

**Cindy.**


	16. Chapter 16

**First of all, I am so sorry! I had every intention of posting another chapter last night, but Montana winter weather reared it's ugly head and my internet would not cooperate with me. We had zero visibilty and -35 degrees with the windchill. I love the snow, but the cold is a different story. Anyway, I will post a second chapter later tonight. I PROMISE! Now, onto the story.**

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**The Following Morning**

"Sam? Hey Sammy, you okay kiddo?" Caleb asked the boy with concern.

Sam shrugged then turned his eyes to the window. He remained silent as the older man watched his charge closely.

"Sam, you're not feeling guilty about Wilcox are you? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, you shouldn't be," Caleb stated.

Sam turned to Caleb, his sad eyes glistening. "No Caleb, I don't feel guilty about him dying. I'm happy actually."

"So, I don't get it. What's wrong then?"

"Caleb, I'm happy that I killed someone! A person. What do you think is wrong?" Sam stared at his lap then raised his eyes to Caleb.

Caleb sighed inwardly. He should have known that Sam would feel this way. He had way to big of a heart for his own good. "Sam, maybe Wilcox wasn't one of the monsters that we usually hunt, but he was a monster none the less. You did what you had to do to survive."

"But I shouldn't be happy. He was a person Caleb. He had a family. I know he deserved to die, but I shouldn't feel happy that I'm the one who killed him."

"He had a family who didn't even come to see him when he was in a coma. That should tell you something Sam. The man was evil. Pure, unadulterated evil. You saved a lot of innocent young lives. And believe me Sam, you should be happy you killed him, because if you hadn't, you'd be the one...dead. And your dad and brothers, they'd be lost kiddo."

Sam looked at Caleb through his shaggy bangs then heaved a heavy sigh and Caleb could tell that Sam wasn't sure if he could believe him, but he didn't know which statement Sam was having a hard time believing. "Do you really think he was evil?"

"Sam, I did some research and found out what he did to those boys before he strangled them. What he had planned for you. He was evil. That man, and I use the term loosely, did not have one good cell in his body," Caleb said with conviction, hoping Sam would allow it to sink in.

Sam looked away and swallowed deeply before turning back to Caleb. "My family would be okay you know. Without me I mean. Probably be better off."

Caleb's heart sank at that. He had so hoped that Sam now realized how much he meant to his father and brothers, but old wounds heal slowly apparently. Caleb took Sam's hand and made sure the boy was looking at him before he started to speak. When wide, sad hazel eyes met his eyes he sighed again. "Sammy...you going missing? It nearly broke your daddy and brothers. They love you so much squirt. Now, I know some bad things were said, but...they didn't mean it Sam. You didn't see John and Dean. How devastated they were. How guilty. They love you more than anything in the world."

Sam's eyes filled with tears and Caleb's heart broke at how sad the poor kid looked. He was terrified that Sam didn't believe him, but was beyond relieved when Sam's whisper met his ears.

"Thanks Caleb. I guess you may be right. I mean, they are here and all. They could have just forgotten about me."

"Hey, no problem bro'. And that would never happen. They would never forget about you. How could they? Now, eat your breakfast. You look like a frickin' skeleton."

"'m not really hungry."

"Sam, you've been through the wringer. I know that, but you have gotta eat dude. You're never gonna get your strength back if you don't. Come on, please. Your brothers will skin me alive if you die of starvation on my watch. Just a few bites for Uncle Caleb?"

"Don't really feel so good right now," Sam muttered as he picked at his toast.

"Why? What's wrong Sam? You're head hurting?" Caleb asked worriedly.

"A little, I guess."

"Don't bullshit me Sam. How's your head really?"

"It's bad. Really bad," Sam answered as he moved his hands up to massage his temples.

"Sam, just push your little button thingy, get yourself some relief dude."

"No! I gotta toughen up. Dad already thinks I'm weak and worthless. I'm sure Dean does too. Maybe if I show I don't need the pain meds, that I can tough it out, they'll change their minds."

"Oh Sam. I thought we just went over this. They don't think you're weak. Nobody does. And certainly not worthless. Quite the contrary actually. We're all amazed at how you're handling this, how you handled yourself in both situations you were in."

"Yeah, I don't think so Caleb."

"Kiddo, you know what? You're a hero to me..."

"Caleb, come on..."

"No Sam, you are! You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Even before all of this happened. You're the only one who'll stand up to that bear of a dad of yours and not back down. And what you did recently. You're a hero, plain and simple," Caleb announced, crossing his arms over his chest, challenging Sam to disagree.

"Caleb, I...I don't know what to say. The thing with Dad, that's 'cause I'm stubborn and stupid. He scares the crap out of me!"

"Yet you still stand up for what you believe in. Hero!"

"Oka..." Sam began to speak, but winced sharply as a particularly painful jolt shot through his skull. He grabbed his head and fell back onto his pillow, hissing through clenched teeth.

"Sam! Sammy, are you okay? Hey buddy, look at me!" Caleb pled as he jumped to Sam's side once again.

"P...push the med button C...Caleb. Please!" Sam cried breathlessly.

Caleb grabbed for the button and pushed it then grabbed Sam's shoulder gently as they waited for the medicine to take affect. After a few minutes Sam began to relax as the pain dulled. He glanced at Caleb appreciatively, flashing his dimples for a second before closing his eyes, sighing softly.

"Thanks Caleb. That was a bad one. When is this gonna end?" Sam whispered.

"They'll get better kid, you'll see. Do you think you can eat anything now?"

"Not if I want to keep my stomach on the inside. I could use some water though."

Caleb poured some fresh water and handed it to Sam, who took it and nodded in thanks. He drank about half of it down before handing the glass back to his friend.

"So, where did everybody go anyway?" Sam asked as he once again relaxed against his pillow.

"Uh...they all just went to stretch their legs kiddo. Do you think you should take a nap maybe?" Caleb suggested, trying to change the subject.

"You don't lie very well Caleb. This room hasn't been Winchester free, except for me, since I woke up. What's going on?"

"Sam...they went to do something and they don't want you upset, so can you drop it?"

"Did they leave me? Oh jeez! Did you draw the short straw and now you're left behind to take care of me? Am I your burden now?" The comment was said in jest, but there was a hint of seriousness to it that Caleb picked up on right away.

"They didn't leave you Sam, and you are not a burden to anybody. They're...around. Somewhere," Caleb uttered, lowering his eyes. He jerked them upwards when he heard Sam suck in a deep breath.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"They didn't go to salt and burn his body did they? Oh crap! Right in the morgue? Shit Caleb, please tell me they didn't!"

"Take it easy Sam! No, they didn't go to salt and burn the sicko, you little dork! Um...they did go to see him though."

"What? Why?" Sam asked, his heart racing.

"They wanted to see him, to make sure he really is dead. They wanted to see what the monster looked like. Now, don't get upset Sam. Your dad is gonna kill me if he finds out I told you."

"I'm not upset. I could have told them what he looked like. He looked normal, Caleb. Perfectly normal."

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**Meanwhile-Phoenix Medical Center Morgue**

"I really shouldn't be doing this John," Dr. Drake announced as he, John, Dean, Daniel and Bobby stood next to the drawer that held the evil monster who had dared to harm the youngest Winchester.

"We have to see him doc, we just need to," Daniel announced as he looked nervously at the door in the wall.

Dr. Drake nodded, then grasped the handle on the door and pulled the drawer out. The covered form came into view and they could immediately see how big the man had been. The sheet covered body was at least 6'5 and quite bulky.

"Shit, it looks like he's twice Sam's size!" Dean spat, looking at the form with pure hatred.

Dr. Drake grabbed the sheet and pulled it down to the dead man's hips. There was a unified gasp as the men took in the severely damaged corpse. The face was so damaged it was hard to make out any features. Both arms were misshapen, most likely due to numerous fractures. The torso was covered in a myriad of deep cuts and bruises. The bulk of the man was obviously not from fat, but pure muscle. How Sam had managed to take him down was a testament to his strength, will and absolute love for his family. The men present gained a whole new sense of pride and respect for their youngest.

Dr. Drake went to cover the body and close the drawer when Bobby stepped forward suddenly. "Hold up a sec there doc, will ya?"

The doctor stopped and eyed the older man questioningly as Bobby stepped up and leaned over the body.

"John, take a look at this," Bobby said as he pointed to a small tattoo on the body's chest, just over the heart.

John stepped forward and took a closer look. "That's an odd tattoo Bobby, but why are we looking at it?"

"Does it look familiar to you? 'Cause it seems like I've seen this before," Bobby answered as he leaned in even closer.

"I can't say it rings any bells. What do you think Bobby?" John asked his friend.

"Aww, it's probably nothing. Just looked familiar is all," Bobby said as he pulled away, allowing the doctor to cover the body and slide it back into it's refrigerated chamber.

"Thanks doc, we appreciate this," Dean said, turning away from the drawer, happy to have the thing locked away once more.

"You said he's going to be cremated, right?" John asked the doctor, feigning curiosity.

"Yes. First thing in the morning. We contacted the family and they don't want his body back. Said to just send them the hospital bill and to, and I quote, 'burn his pathetic, sorry ass,' unquote."

"Can't say that I blame them. Did he have any kids?" John asked, revulsion sending a shiver through his body.

"Yeah, I guess he had two sons and one daughter. Why?" the doctor replied.

"I just hope he didn't practice on them is all," John said with sadness.

The men fell silent with that thought and shuffled out of the room. When they reached the hallway, John turned and held his hand out to the doctor, shaking it once it was offered.

"Thanks again doctor. We just needed to make sure, you know?" he said through a sad smile.

"I understand John," the doctor replied.

"Well, I guess we better get back to Sammy and Caleb before they send out a search party to find us," Dean quipped.

"Oh, John. I'm going to be doing a full examination on Sam later this afternoon. He'll be getting a bath also, so you guys will have to find something to do for an hour or so. Maybe you can go grab a real meal, instead of hospital cafeteria cuisine," Dr. Drake announced to the group.

"Do we have to leave him?" Daniel asked, suddenly nervous.

"It's only for an hour Daniel. It's easier to get the exam and bath done in privacy," the doctor replied.

When Dean started to protest, agreeing with his brother, John interrupted him. "Sam will be fine boys. He trusts the doctor here and we could really use a decent meal. One hour doc; that's all you have."

"Probably won't even take that long, and Sam'll probably fall right off to sleep afterwards. This examination can be quite tiring," the doctor said then walked away from the group.

Dean and Daniel stared at John but he merely gave them a stern look that said _'no arguing'_ then turned and headed down the hallway toward the PCCU.

John was lost in thought, his own nervousness at leaving Sam without any of them to watch him making his heart race. _'Buck it up Winchester,'_ John berated himself. _'He's in a hospital with dozens of people around, and Wilcox is dead. Nothing is going to happen.'_

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**Dun, dun, dun. More to come later. Please review and let me know how evil I am!!**

**Cindy.**


	17. Chapter 17

**As promise, here is the next chapter. I have yet to finish transfering this story to Word so I don't have a chapter count yet. I am up to 24 ch. at this point, but still have quite a bit left to transfer. As soon as I am done with that task, I'll let you know how many chapters there are. Now, onto the chapter. WARNING: DARK CHAPTER. SCENE OF TORTURE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

**Cindy.**

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"All done Sam. You did very good," Dr. Drake exclaimed.

"Am I going to live?" Sam quipped tiredly.

"You're on your way to a full recovery," the doctor replied.

Sam sank into his bed as he squeezed his eyes shut and massaged the sides of his head.

"Sam? Is your head hurting?" Dr. Drake asked, moving to Sam's side.

"Yeah...uh...it's bad. I just want it to stop Dr. Drake. It hurts so bad. When is it going to stop?" Sam cried softly.

"I know it hurts Sam, but it won't forever. I promise, it's going to get better."

Sam nodded then swallowed nervously before speaking again. "Dr. Drake? Did Michael Wilcox suffer?" he asked as he fiddled with his blanket.

Dr. Drake was taken aback by Sam's question. He gazed at his young patient then shook his head. "No Sam. He never woke up. He didn't feel a thing."

"Good. That's good, 'cause...I mean...I know he was bad...evil even...but, I just wanted to stop him. I didn't mean to kill him. I'm just glad he didn't suffer."

"Sam, you are amazing. What this man did to you and you're glad he didn't suffer? I've never met anyone with as big of a heart as you. You are an inspiration, to me and I'm sure everyone else who meets you," the doctor said in wonder.

Sam smiled sheepishly, a light flush to his cheeks then winced as another sharp pain seared through his head. Dr. Drake reached into his lab coat and pulled out a liquid filled syringe. He stopped Sam before he had the chance to push his med button.

"Okay Sam. That's not going to cut it this time. I put you through the wringer, so I thought you might need something a little stronger after your examination."

"No doctor, that's ...ah...that's okay. I...I'm fine."

"Uh huh. Sam, I can tell you're not sleeping well. This will help. Just for tonight and we'll see how you're feeling tomorrow, okay?"

Sam nodded slowly as the pain began to overtake him. Dr. Drake injected the contents of the syringe into Sam's IV line and watched as the boy visibly relaxed as the pain subsided. Sam looked up with glassy eyes and whispered his thanks. He closed his eyes, but soon they popped back open.

"Dr. Drake? When's my...family getting...back?" he slurred.

"Well, I told them to give me an hour, so they have about half an hour left. You rest now Sam. This stuff isn't as strong as what you were on a few days ago, but it'll help you sleep better." Dr. Drake smiled and patted Sam's arm.

Sam smiled then muttered something before his eyes closed and he softly began to snore. Dr. Drake crossed the room and turned off the light. The room glowed with the wavering sunlight that peeked through the slats of the blinds. The doctor gave Sam one last look before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him.

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Sam floated in a drug induced haze, the pain forgotten for now. He slept deeply, giving his body a chance to re-coop some of it's lost energy. As he floated, he became aware of the sensation of pressure on his wrists, then the sensation moved to his ankles and he had the uneasy feeling that he needed to wake up, that something wasn't right. He fought against the drugs effects, trying to pull himself awake. He couldn't move his arms or legs and he began to panic. As adrenaline flooded his system, it gave him the jolt he needed to open his eyes. What he saw made his heart nearly stop. He was looking into the face of evil. Michael Wilcox stood above him, a cruel smile spread across his bruised face. Sam tried to move, but when he looked down his heart sank. His wrists and ankles were bound to the bed railings with duct tape.

_'What is it with this guy and duct tape?'_ Sam thought absently. _'Oh God, please, not again.'_

"Well, well Sammy. It's nice of you to join me. I was beginning to think you wouldn't wake up to enjoy all of the fun I have in store for us," Wilcox calmly said, rubbing his hand up and down Sam's left arm.

Sam attempted to cry out but a strong hand clamped down over his mouth. His panic filled eyes stared up at his tormentor as he tried in vain to move his head away.

"Sssh..." Wilcox hissed, raising a finger to his lips. "If you call out, that sweet little nurse is going to come in here and then I'm gonna have to kill her. Now, you don't want that do you, Sam?"

Sam shook his head, still staring fearfully at the man.

"Good boy. Now, I'm going to take my hand away. If you scream, anyone who comes in this room dies. This is a private party after all."

Wilcox pulled his hand away and Sam immediately pushed back on the bed as far as he could. He struggled against the bounds that held him to the bed, but his efforts were futile.

"How? You died. They...said you died," Sam rasped, his voice nearly gone.

"Well, technically I did. Thanks for that by the way. But, I'm back now. Now we can continue our little party we started all those days ago. I'm excited! Are you excited?" Wilcox sneered as he leaned over the railing.

"Please...just leave me alone. Why are you doing this?" Sam whispered as his heart raced in his chest.

"Oh Sammy, I can't leave you alone. You belong to me now. They may have covered my mark, but you are still mine. Let's see, why don't I do something about that bandage covering my handiwork."

Wilcox reached down and ripped Sam's gown from his body, leaving it to pool across his pelvis, then pulled the gauze bandage from the bite wound to Sam's chest. Sam flinched as the tape pulled his delicate skin. Wilcox ran his fingers lovingly over the bite before leaning over and gently kissing it. Sam shivered with fear and revulsion as he lay helpless on the bed. Wilcox stood and stared down at the boy, then suddenly leaned down and clamped his mouth over Sam's, kissing him hard. Sam whimpered and tried to move away. Wilcox pulled away, a gleam in his eyes. He whispered huskily to Sam, his face only inches away from the boy's.

"You taste so much sweeter than those other boys. I think I'll make this last a bit longer than with them."

"My dad and brothers are on their way back. If they find you, they'll rip you apart!" Sam spat, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. A chill ran through him as he realized he could still taste Wilcox. He tasted like death. He smelled that way too and Sam thought he might be sick. He swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat, then he heard Wilcox laugh.

"Your pathetic family can't stop me Sam. Nobody can. You belong to me; you are bound to me. Now, I think you need to be punished for what you've done. You know, for killing me and all."

Wilcox grabbed Sam's face and kissed him again, but this time he bit down hard on Sam's lower lip, tearing through the sensitive flesh like butter and eliciting a sharp cry from the boy. When he pulled away, Wilcox's lips and teeth were coated with Sam's blood, and Sam could feel warm wetness trickling down his chin. Wilcox then reached up and ripped the bandage from Sam's cheek. He eyed the healing wound, then moved his fingers over it. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. He flipped out a blade then set about cutting then pulling the stitches from the cut.

"Stop! Please..." Sam cried before once again a hand slammed down over his mouth.

"Now Sam, I said you had to be quiet. I guess I'm going to have to take care of that!" Wilcox spat.

Wilcox set his knife on the mattress then reached down and retrieved his roll of duct tape then using his teeth, he pulled and ripped off another strip and secured it over Sam's mouth. Sam's eyes darted frantically as Wilcox once again retrieved the knife and finished pulling the stitches from Sam's cheek. Once all of the stitches were removed, he set the knife aside and using both hands he pried the wound apart with his fingers.

Sam arched off the bed, whimpering in pain as his cheek wound was reopened. He could feel blood trailing down his face and stared up into the empty, soulless eyes that stared back at him. A tear dropped from the corner of his eye and Wilcox moved his thumb up and wiped it away. He then smeared his fingers through the blood on Sam's face and sucked them into his mouth. He rolled his eyes with pleasure then looked back at Sam.

"So sweet," he purred. "Now, I don't think you've paid enough do you? No? Well, what can we do to fix that?" Wilcox trailed his eyes over Sam's trembling body, coming to rest on the bandage that covered a good portion of Sam's upper torso. Sam screamed through his gag when Wilcox tore the bandage away, then pressed with his fingers firmly over the incision.

"This looks yummy!" he exclaimed gleefully. "And staples this time. I love staples!"

Wilcox retrieved his knife yet again and began to slowly pry each staple from the incision. Sam writhed in pain as tears flowed freely from his wide, panicked eyes. It took at least five minutes, but Wilcox finally finished in removing all of the staples. This time, instead of putting his knife aside, he used it to cut along the length of the incision then pulled it apart roughly. Sam bucked off the bed, unable to bear the pain. He cried out, but was muffled by the gag. He collapsed back onto the bed, his energy utterly spent. He breathed shallowly in and out through his nose as dark speckles danced before his eyes. Sam willed himself to calm down. He could not pass out and allow this monster to do anything he wanted. Sam slowly got his breathing under control, but cried out again as Wilcox poked his fingers into the newly opened wound. Wilcox turned his sneering face to Sam, then held his knife up to Sam's face.

"Should I cut through the muscle too? Really get in there? No? I guess you're right. Can't have you dying on me just yet. There's still lot's more fun to be had."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to wake up from this nightmare, but when he opened his eyes again, Wilcox was still there. Sam's body was covered in a sheen of sweat as he slowly went into shock. He was suddenly aware of hands moving over his torso and chest, smearing his blood to cover the entire area. Then Wilcox moved up and took Sam's face in his hands. He put his lips against Sam's ear and whispered softly, his fetid breath brushing against Sam's neck.

"Your family is coming, so we'll have to finish this some other time. Remember Sam, you are mine. I can find you wherever you may hide."

With that Wilcox pulled away from the tortured boy and crossed the room. He sent a chilling smile Sam's way then slipped out the door.

Sam lay silent on the bed, his chest heaving as he tried to pull in as much oxygen as possible. Blood continued to trickle down his face and it flowed from his stomach, pooling in his navel before running off his sides and soaking into the sheets beneath him. Tears continued to flow as his eyes slowly slid shut. Sam's last thought before the darkness claimed him was of his family.

_'Please Daddy. Dean, Daniel...please help me,'_ he thought as consciousness finally left him.

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**I know...WTF???????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is up with that? Can you imagine what's going to happen when John and the boys walk in on that scene? Holy cow! Anyway, more to come tomorrow. Please review.**

**Cindy.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Okay folks, first of all, I can't get into my email account so to all of you who commented, thank you very much! I will try and reply to each comment as soon as my homepage is back up. Second, I knew I would get in trouble for that last chapter, but gosh....I reeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaally got in trouble! LOL Here is the next chapter. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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The group of five hunters walked purposely down the hall toward the PCCU. Sam would be moved to a private room in the Pediatric ward in the morning, but for now he remained under the care of the critical care staff. Daniel and Dean walked ahead of the three older men, both in a hurry to get back to their brother. They were late and feeling guilty.

"Man, that waitress sucked!" Dean spat.

"She was busy Dean," Daniel replied, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

"She'd disappear like, forever! I bet she was going in the back getting her jollies on with the dishwasher!" Dean spouted, his lip curling into a disgusted grimace.

"Dean! Watch your mouth," John reprimanded from behind him.

"I'm just saying Dad," Dean whined back.

"Don't say anymore!" John shot.

Bobby and Caleb chuckled at the two men then Caleb spoke up.

"I think she was doing the other waitress. They both disappeared at the same time."

"Ewww, that's just...hey wait," Dean started, a grin forming on his lips. "Nope, that's just gross. Our waitress had a mustache I think."

Daniel elbowed Dean playfully as John rolled his eyes. They came to the PCCU doors and pushed through. John was speaking to Bobby when he heard Daniel's surprised voice.

"Hey! Who the hell is that guy coming from Sam's room?"

The three older men barely caught the retreating form as it turned the corner into another hallway. Uneasiness settled over the five men and they quickened their steps. None of them could have been prepared for the bloody sight that greeted them when they pushed into Sam's room. They stopped, momentarily paralyzed before both Bobby and Caleb sprinted from the room, racing in the same direction as the mystery doctor they had seen moments before.

John, Dean and Daniel stood, stunned at seeing their boy, their reason for living bound to his bed, blood everywhere. And he was naked, exposed as his gown was piled to the side of him on the mattress. Blood covered his torso and spilled down his sides. The sheets beneath him were soaked in the crimson fluid. Dean was the first to break the paralysis and dove to the bed, taking Sam's bloody, lax face into his hands.

"Sammy...oh God...oh my God! Sammy, wake up!" he screamed as he gently patted Sam's face.

Daniel was instantly on the other side of the bed, picking up Sam's gown and draping it over his hips. His eyes were bright with tears as he stared at the carnage that was his baby brother's body. He barely heard his father tear open the door and scream for someone to help, to call security and to get that son of a bitch Dr. Drake here now! He quickly reached for the stack of clean washcloths on the side table and pressed them onto the wound on Sam's stomach, trying to slow the bleeding. He heard Dean's chanting sobs and looked up to see his brother had also pressed a cloth against Sam's cheek.

Tears flowed from Dean's eyes as he brushed his other hand through Sam's hair. "No, no, no, no, NO!!! This isn't happening! Sammy, please, don't leave me. I need you...Sammy!" Dean cried as John moved to his side, his eyes taking in the duct tape that bound his baby to the bed.

Bile rose in John's throat and he swallowed it back as blind fury such as he'd never felt raged through him. Someone was going to pay for this. Just then the door burst open and a nurse rushed into the room. John was on her in a heartbeat.

"Who was the doctor that was just in here!?" he shouted at the shocked nurse.

"I...I didn't see anyone other than Dr. Drake...I..." the nurse stammered, not yet sure what was going on.

"He just left here and this is what he left behind!" John screamed, then shoved the poor woman toward Sam's bed.

"Oh my God!" the nurse cried, her hands flying to her mouth.

The door burst open again as two security officers stormed in, followed by Dr. Drake. All three men pulled up and stared in stunned silence before Dr. Drake regained his composure and rushed across the floor to Sam's side.

John turned on the officers, shouting commands. "Go find the fucker who did this! He was about 6'5, dark hair, wearing a doctor's coat. He went left down the hall then left again. He did this to my boy. Find him!!!"

The officers quickly obeyed and rushed from the room. John joined his sons, the doctor and nurse at the bed as they frantically tried to bring Sam awake. More medical personnel poured into the room, shock evident on their faces when they saw their favorite patient hurt so badly.

"Can we get these damn bindings off my brother!?" Daniel shouted over the din that had overtaken the room.

"We'll worry about that once we have him awake Daniel," Dr. Drake replied as he evaluated Sam's condition. He barked orders and nurses jumped and pretty soon it was back to being the Winchesters and him left in the room.

Dean pulled the tape from Sam's mouth and gasped when he saw his brother's shredded lip. Instantly, Sam's eyes flew open wide. He screamed out, his eyes wild and unseeing. "NO! Leave me alone! Please, no! Dean! Help me...Daniel! Help me!"

Dean took Sam's face in his hands and turned it until he was in Sam's line of sight. "Sam! It's me...it's Dean. I'm here little brother. You're safe now," he cried, his heart breaking at the pain and fear he saw in the innocent eyes that stared back at him.

"No! Don't touch me! You can't have me...I'm not yours! You're dead...you can't be here!" Sam sobbed hysterically, trying to pull away but he was still tightly secured to the bed.

Daniel and John looked at each other with confusion. What had Sam meant? Who had done this to him? Dean's voice cut through their thoughts once more.

"Sammy, listen to me. It's me...Dean. Dad and Daniel are here too. He's gone...he's gone Sam. Please...it's me...your big brother."

Sam stopped fighting and recognition filled his eyes. "D-Dean?" he whispered, the sound barely audible.

"Yeah kiddo, it's your awesomely handsome big brother," Dean replied as he leaned his forehead against Sam's.

"Ahhh...God...it hurts Dean..."

"I know...I know Sam, but the doc is gonna fix you right up. Right doc?" Dean queried.

"Yes, that's right Sam. I'm going to fix this all good as new," the doctor replied, tears in his own eyes.

Sam turned his eyes to Dean's left and let them fall on John. "Dad?"

John took Dean's spot as Dean backed away, and rested his hand on Sam's face. "I'm here Sam, I'm here."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't stop him. Please don't be mad...please?"

"Oh Sammy, don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. Nothing has been your fault. I could never be mad...not at you, baby. Now, the son of a bitch who did this...he's a dead man walking," John seethed as he took in his son's frightened eyes.

"Sammy, who did this to you? Who hurt you?" Daniel asked as he tried to tear the tape that bound Sam's right wrist.

Sam looked fearfully at his family, then in a small, scared voice he whispered, "Michael Wilcox."

The four men gasped as Sam named his attacker. One out of concern for his patient's physical and mental state, and the others because they knew the stakes had just gotten much higher. A supernatural being was much harder to take down than a human. John was just about to speak when a nurse hurried into the room. She handed Dr. Drake a pair of surgical scissors and the doctor turned to cut away the duct tape that bound his patient. Dean quickly grabbed the scissors from the doctors hand.

"No. I'll do it. He's my brother." Dean cut through each binding as Daniel softly whispered to his brother, his hands softly cupping Sam's face. Sam leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, falling into an exhausted sleep. Once the tape was removed, the bottom railings were lowered and John picked up the blankets and sheets that had been pulled from the bed and gently covered his son.

Dr. Drake spoke quietly to the nurse, who nodded her head in response then quickly left the room. Bobby and Caleb soon entered, both red faced and winded. They shook their heads dejectedly when John turned questioning eyes their way. They crossed the floor and took up posts near the bed, both eyeing the still form that lay there.

"Is he okay?" Caleb whispered, his face paling at the sight of the bloody hand prints on Sam's face.

"He will be," John answered.

Dr. Drake spoke then and all of the men turned their attention to him. "We're going to take Sam to the suture room so we can get these wounds taken care of. It looks like the bleeding is under control," he said as he lifted the blanket to get a view of Sam's stomach.

"Dean and Daniel will go with you," John stated, his voice tired and shaky.

"John, that isn't necessary. I'll be with him..."

John was on the doctor in an instant, grabbing his coat collar and pulling him toward him. "No offense doctor, but you were supposed to be with him before!" John seethed, barely keeping his fury under control. "You told us we couldn't stay with him while you did your exam! He was your responsibility while we were gone and look what happened! Just how much time did that lunatic have to torture my son! How long was he alone?"

"John, please..." the doctor said as he pulled himself from John's grasp. John held his hands up and backed away. "Sam sailed through the exam and he refused the bath. His head was hurting quite seriously so I gave him something a little stronger for the pain and to help him sleep. He was out for the count and I knew you would all be back within a half hour. I didn't think there was any danger in leaving him to sleep."

"So, he was drugged to the point of unconsciousness. That's how this bastard got in here and taped him to the bed without anyone hearing," Daniel spat.

"Doc, I want you call down to the morgue and ask them to check on Wilcoxs' body," John demanded forcefully.

"John, you can't be serious. It wasn't Wilcox, he's dead. Someone else did this, someone who is sick, who heard about this on the news. It wasn't Wilcox. Look, I know what Sam said, but he must have been dreaming of Wilcox and when he woke up, the dream was still playing with his mind..."

"Just humor us doc. Call the morgue," Caleb said, realizing that Sam must have named Wilcox as his attacker.

The doctor strode to the phone on the wall near the door then looked at the men. "This is ridiculous you know," he said as he punched in the number for the morgue. A few moments later and he spoke again, only this time into the phone. "Hey Charlie, this is Dr. Drake. Can you do me a favor and go check on the body of Michael Wilcox? Thanks..." The doctor waited and then tensed as the person on the other end started to speak. "Are you sure? But, I don't understand...yeah, call security right away."

Dr. Drake hung up and stared at the hunters in shock. He swallowed nervously then spoke.

"Michael Wilcoxs' body is missing."

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**That's it for now. More to come later tonight, internet permitting :(. Please review and I will hopefully be able to get into my account to read and reply. Thanks for reading.**

**Cindy.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Okay, still can't reply to comments. I can get in now to read, but it won't let me reply. So, thanks once again for the wonderful comments. So glad you are still liking the story. Here is the next chapter.**

**Cindy.**

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John Winchester remained in his youngest's hospital room after Sam was taken to be evaluated, cleaned up and restitched, his older brothers on official don't-leave-Sammy's-side duty. John watched as nurses removed the blood soaked bedding from the bed and scrubbed the vinyl covered mattress before making it up with fresh, clean, blood free linens and blankets. John stared at the crimson stains on the sheets. His baby's blood. His Sammy's. He had come so close to losing him. Again. Once he was alone, John did something that the mighty John Winchester never did. He lowered his face into his hands and he cried. Not a few piddly ass little tears. No. He out and out sobbed. Body wracking, make you feel like you're going to puke sobs. He hadn't cried like this since a few days after Mary died and it had finally sunk in. And even then, he didn't sob this hard. This was after all his son, his flesh and blood, his baby. Nothing hurt worse than seeing your child suffering.

John couldn't shake the picture from his mind of his boy strapped to the bed, naked and bloody. The instant he had entered the room and saw Sam's limp, tortured body, John had thought he was dead. He thought he had lost the one pure thing left in his life and a big piece of him died right then and there. He'd never had the chance to tell Sam how sorry he was about the things he'd said and how horribly he had been treating him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd told Sam he loved him; couldn't remember ever telling him he was proud of him. And dammit, he was proud! He didn't know why those words were so easily bestowed on Dean and Daniel, but when it came to Sam, well all he got was what a disappointment he was. How little he measured up to his big brothers; how worthless as a hunter he was.

John's tears slowly ended and he sat silently contemplating just when he had decided that just because his baby didn't share his and his older son's enthusiasm for the hunt that he was less deserving to carry the Winchester name. If anything, he deserved it the most. Even though Sam didn't care for hunting all that much, when given the chance he was actually quite good. He couldn't be beat in the research department if John were truly honest with himself, but was seldom listened to because after all, he was a teenager with an attitude who had the audacity to question John's orders and authority. You just didn't do that, even if you were one hundred percent right. The kid had guts and would put himself in danger to protect his family.

The fact that John had told him he was selfish and that he put meaningless things in front of his family made the man shake his head in self loathing. Sam didn't have a selfish bone in his body. He'd lay his life down for his family and John knew it. If John were honest with himself he'd realize that the reason he was so against Sam having a life outside of the family business was because he wasn't in control when Sam was at a dance, or sporting event, or debate. _'So,'_ John thought, _'just who is the selfish one?'_

John was brought out of his thoughts when the door to Sam's room opened. He leapt to his feet expecting his son's to come through the door, but quickly deflated when he saw Deputy Ridgeway instead. The deputy approached John with his hand outstretched and a look of concern and anger on his face.

"John, I got here as quickly as I could," he said as he took John's hand and gave it a strong shake.

"Thanks for coming Alan. I really didn't want anyone else on this," John replied as he sat tiredly back onto his chair.

Deputy Ridgeway pulled up a chair across from John and sat. Both men remained quiet for some time before the deputy finally spoke.

"Is Sam going to be okay? What happened?"

"Physically, he should heal completely. He'll have some scars to remind him of all this, but the doctor said there won't be any permanent damage. It's the emotional healing we're concerned the most about. What happened before, and now this. I don't know if he can fully come back from it and it scares me to death," John replied wearily, his hands shaking as he brushed them through his hair.

"Sam's a strong kid. I think with the help and support of all of you, he'll make it through," the deputy said, his words meant to comfort.

"Sam is the emotional one. It's not easy for him to get over things and the fact that none of us like to talk about emotions doesn't help him."

"Well, I'm sure you guys will do what you need to in order to get Sam on more stable ground again."

"We'll have to. The kid's been through hell and he's still kicking. His brothers and I can learn a lot from him."

Deputy Ridgeway nodded his agreement then spoke again. "I think we can all learn from him. So, what happened John? What did you see?"

"Dean and Daniel saw more of the man than Bobby, Caleb or myself. We were coming back from dinner and he was just coming out of Sam's room. We were a ways down the hallway. When we came in the room we saw Sam...uh...he was restrained on the bed...his wrists and ankles were duct taped to the railings. He was...uh...he..." John stammered as his emotions got the best of him.

"Just take your time John," the deputy said softly.

"He was naked. His gown had been torn off him and the bedding was on the floor. The bastard bit through Sammy's lip! He...he removed the stitches in Sam's cheek and stomach and tore open the wounds. Then he smeared the blood all over him. When I get ahold of the prick, I'm ripping him apart!"

Deputy Ridgeway swallowed nervously, knowing the man was completely serious. "John, did Sam say anything about what happened? Did the guy...touch him?"

"He didn't say anything. He was unconscious when we came in. He woke up for a few minutes then he was out again."

"Dr. Drake said that Sam named Michael Wilcox as the man who attacked him, and he also said that Wilcox's body is missing."

"Yeah, well that's crazy right? Wilcox is dead. As for what happened to his body, I really couldn't care less," John lied, lowering his eyes to his hands.

"Where are Dean and Daniel, and Sam's uncles?"

"Uh...Dean and Daniel are with Sam. The doc is fixing him up, trying to avoid having to take him back into surgery. Bobby and Caleb went back to the hotel for res...some rest. They'll be back in the morning."

"Well, I'll need to talk to them. And to Sam when he's up to it," the deputy said.

Just then the door opened and two orderlies pushed Sam through on a gurney, followed closely by Dean and Daniel. Sam was asleep and didn't stir when he was transferred to the bed. Dean and Daniel took up their protective posts as John and Deputy Ridgeway walked up to the other side of the bed. Both men took in Sam's pale face and the dark smudges beneath his eyes. His mangled lip had been stitched and a new bandage covered his cheek. New bruises had formed where he had been violently kissed and John shuddered at the thought of a dead man's lips on his son's. He looked up to his older son's as he took Sam's hand in his, immediately noting the slightly warmer than normal feel of it. He also noticed that Sam was once more hooked up to an IV.

"What did the doctor say? Is he going to need surgery?" John asked nervously.

"So far no. It looks like just the outer layer of the incision was reopened, but there does appear to be some damage to the muscle layer. Doc's mostly worried about an infection," Dean answered, brushing some errant strands of hair from Sam's eyes.

Sam moaned softly and shifted on the bed as his eyes fluttered open. Fear showed in their hazel depths for a moment before recognition lit them and he smiled warmly before closing his eyes once more. The hand that John held gripped his weakly before falling limp.

"Did he wake up at all? Did he say anything about what happened?" Deputy Ridgeway asked the brothers.

"He woke up for a minute but became so agitated Dr. Drake had to sedate him. He didn't say anything except that he didn't belong to whoever did this and that they couldn't have him," Daniel said sadly as he watched his brother sleep.

"Okay then, can either one of you describe the man you saw come from Sam's room?"

"Uh...he was about 6'5 I'd say; dark hair, average length. He was wearing a lab coat and blue jeans. That's about it though deputy. We were a ways down and couldn't really see any details. Sorry I couldn't give you more," Daniel said, not looking at the deputy.

"Okay, well I guess I have what I need for now. The nurses have the duct tape Sam was bound with at their station. I'll get it tested for fingerprints and hopefully we'll find a match. You all take care of him okay?"

"He's not leaving our sight. Not even for a second," Dean replied with conviction.

The deputy nodded, then ducked out of the room. The three Winchester men pulled up chairs and planted themselves around the bed. They all settled in for the long night ahead.  
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**The Following Morning-Early**

Deputy Ridgeway entered the sheriffs building and hurried to his desk, hoping to have an identity for Sam Winchester's attacker waiting for him. He saw a folder sitting in the center of his desk and picked it up. He opened the folder and read the contents, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What the hell? How can that be?" he whispered to himself as he read the name and viewed the picture in the file.

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Sam Winchester was not doing well. He had spiked a fever during the night and was hovering around 104 degrees. His family paced the room worriedly as they waited for blood test results to come back. Dr. Drake had been called in and was concerned that Sam had developed an infection. Normally, a heavy duty antibiotic would take care of the problem, but Sam had the added dilemma of his now missing spleen. Dr. Drake walked through the door, a pensive look on his face. The three Winchesters approached him, concern mirrored in their eyes, waiting for the doctor to speak.

"John, boys. I'm sorry, but Sam has developed an infection. A pretty nasty one. We're going to hit him with as strong a regimen of antibiotics as we can. We'll try to get his fever down to a more acceptable level and keep him as comfortable as possible."

"Is he gonna be okay? I mean...he can beat this right?" Dean asked fearfully.

"He's young, but with everything that's happened, it's going to be a struggle. My main concern is keeping the infection away from his heart," the doctor replied.

The four men turned weary eyes Sam's way when he began to groan from his bed. He tossed his head from side to side, his hair plastered to his sweat soaked face. He began to babble incoherent sentences and the men looked at each other with deep concern. Then he said something that made the Winchester's blood run cold.

"Mom? Wait for me. Oh Mom..." he whispered, a slight smile on his face. His hands reached out as if he were trying to touch someone in front of him. "I'm coming Mom..."

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**That's it for now. I'm thinking I may post another one after the NEW EPISODE tonight. If you all want me to. LOL Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Okay, I know you all really want answers to just how the sick pervert could come back and hurt Sam again, so I'm posting the next chapter where your questions will be answered. It ain't good, not for Sammy. Good thing he has so many tough ass hunters watching over him huh? So, here it is.**

**Cindy.**

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"No Sammy! Don't do this," Dean cried as he took Sam's shoulder and began to shake him, trying to wake him up.

"Dean! Stop, you're going to hurt him," Dr. Drake admonished.

Dean looked frantically to his dad and brother who had paled considerably. "He can't die! Please doc, he can't die! Don't let him die."

"He's not dying Dean. His heart rate is fine and all of his other vitals look good except his temp," the doctor replied, confused at Dean's sudden outburst.

"He's talking to his mother doctor. She died when he was six months old," John started, taking Sam's hand and squeezing gently.

"Oh, I understand. You think he's seeing her and is going to her. Well, he's not dying. Not on my watch. Sam's high fever has caused a level of delirium to set in. He might be dreaming of his mother, but the fever has made it seem like she's really there. We get the fever down, the delirium goes away."

"So...that's what you think this is? Delirium?" Daniel asked hopefully.

"I'm certain of it. We'll monitor him closely and if things worsen, we'll deal with it. I'm going to check on my other patients and I'll be back later to check on Sam. If you need me, just have me paged." The doctor then left the three Winchesters to watch over his patient.

John, Dean and Daniel sat and waited. They waited for Sam's fever to cool, for his restlessness to calm, but mostly for him to wake up. None of them could relax until they saw his hazel eyes and knew that he was going to be okay. The door to the room opening brought their attention away from Sam momentarily as they acknowledged the new visitors.

"Bobby, Caleb. Did you find anything?" John asked expectantly as he crossed the room.

Bobby spoke as Caleb stepped up to the bed and joined the brothers, taking in Sam's sweaty, pale face.

"I know what we're dealing with John. It ain't good," Bobby started.

"What is it? How do we kill it?" Dean asked as he joined the men. Daniel stayed at Sam's bedside, dipping a washcloth in cool water and bathing Sam's face.

"The tattoo, the symbol on Wilcox's chest? It's a binding symbol. Heavy hoodoo crap here," Bobby said.

"Binding symbol? What's it binding?" John asked, uneasiness creeping over him.

"It's binding him to life. He can't die. Not really. When he died, it was temporary."

"So, he's a zombie?" Dean asked.

"No. Zombies are walking dead. He's not dead."

"So, how'd he do it?" John inquired.

"He would've had to find a very strong priestess to perform the ritual. She would perform the ritual, then the tattoo would be applied, binding his life to him. The only indicator that something isn't right with him is his smell. He'll smell like...death...and he'll be overly strong."

"Why would he do it?"

"My guess is so he could keep doing what he does. Or maybe so if something happens and one of his victims escapes, he can find them again and finish the job. He'd be the type to never want to leave someone alive. And him dying, then coming back makes it easier to find the victim again."

"I'm confused. How does that make it easier?" Dean asked.

"I researched all of the known victims. They all had a bite mark over their heart. The same place as his tattoo. It's his mark. He marks them, binding them to him. Once he dies and comes back, he can find them wherever they may be and finish what he started."

The three men turned to look at the sleeping boy in the bed. He had calmed and seemed to be resting more peacefully. Daniel placed a protective hand on Sam's chest, swallowing back the fear that attempted to claim him.

"So, what you're saying is that we can't hide Sam? That the pervert can find him wherever he goes? And, we can't kill him?" Daniel asked, panic making his voice shaky.

"He'll be able to find Sam, but we can kill him. There is a way..." Bobby started.

"How? How do we kill the son of a bitch?" Dean spat.

"Silver dagger soaked in holy water and rosemary. It has to pierce the tattoo, then his heart. This breaks the binding spell and he dies."

"Rosemary?" John asked incredulously.

Bobby shrugged his shoulders before responding. "That's what they say."

"Well, first off we have to get Sam out of here. We can't protect him here, there're too many people in medical garb running around. Anyone wearing scrubs or what not fits in. Anyone can get close to him," John said.

"He's too sick Dad, we can't move him yet," Daniel shot back.

"I know son. As soon as the doctor gets this infection under control, we get him out. It'll be much easier to trap Wilcox somewhere more private. Plus, a lot less innocents to get hurt. Bobby, Caleb. Do you know of anywhere around here we could hide out and wait for Wilcox to show?"

"I think a friend of mine has a cabin near Prescott. I'll give him a call," Bobby said as he left the room to make the call.

"Caleb, can you find a silver dagger? More than one if possible," John asked the younger man.

"Sure thing, John. I'm on it." Caleb gave Sam one last look, then left on his mission.

John looked at his two oldest sons, determination set in his eyes. "You two stay here. Don't let Sam out of your sight. Nobody comes near him except us, Dr. Drake and his nurse. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," the two replied in unison. "Uh, where are you going Dad?" Dean asked from his post on Sam's right.

"I'm going to gather some supplies together, then go back to the hotel and do a little more research. You let me know if anything changes with him."

"Yes sir," Dean replied.

John approached the bed and took Sam's hand. He leaned over the railing and softly whispered in Sam's ear. "You fight Sam. You take care of yourself and we'll take care of Wilcox. He'll never touch you again son. I promise."

John softly kissed Sam's hot forehead then turned to leave. They knew what they were up against now, and the hunter in John took over. Sam would be avenged, Winchester style.

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**That's it for tonight. Thank you all for reading and I will reply to your latest comments as my email account seems to be working now where I can do more than read. Now, I know nothing of hoodoo or binding spells. I made all of that stuff up in my weird little mind. Take care all and I'll post more tomorrow. Loves.**

**Cindy.**


	21. Chapter 21

**So, my email account is messed up AGAIN!! Damned MSN! I was in reading comments, but when I tried to reply, it wouldn't let me and now it won't even let me in to my account. I will try to reply to your comments later. Here is the next chapter for you all. Thanks to all for reading and reviewing!**

**Cindy.**

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**Three Days Later**

"John, you can't take Sam out of the hospital yet! He's still too ill!" Dr. Drake protested.

"You've got the infection under control right? The fevers down?" John asked as he prepared to take Sam to the cabin in Prescott.

"Yes, he's beat all that, but he's still got a ways to go. He's still so weak. He needs constant care!" the doctor pled.

"And he'll get it! Just give me the medicines he'll need. He will be taken care of," John continued, as Sam watched weakly from his bed, his brothers on either side of him.

"But John..."

"We can't protect him here doc! Whoever hurt him again, they were able to waltz right in here and torture him. There are too many potential threats here. We will take care of him and we will stop this monster from hurting him again, but we can't do it here."

"This will be against medical advice John."

"I know doc. Look, I understand and I appreciate your concern. You've been so caring of my son, but this is the only way to keep him safe."

"John, please...please reconsider. We can keep security right at his door. Sam nearly died barely 24 hours ago. It's a miracle he's still with us! Don't undo all of his hard work by taking him away too soon. I beg you John!"

John stopped , the pain and anguish of the previous two days still fresh in his mind. He looked to his sons. Dean and Daniel looked like hell. The limited sleep and extreme stress had taken its toll on the young men, and John was willing to bet he didn't look any better. Still, the boys refused to leave their baby brother. They had even defied a direct order from John to go to the hotel and sleep. They couldn't be apart from Sam, not so soon after nearly losing him.

John then looked at his baby. He looked like he had been to hell and back and if you considered everything, he had. He had fought like a warrior to stay with his family and the fight showed on his pale, drawn face. Sam weakly smiled when John's eyes fell on him. John's heart swelled at the sight.

John turned his attention back to Dr. Drake. He wished the circumstances were different, that he could keep Sam here as long as was needed, but that just wasn't possible.

"Dr. Dra...Robert, I wish Sam could stay here, I really do. He isn't safe here doc. We can't keep him safe. I promise you, Sam's every need will be met."

Dr. Drake stared at John then nodded in defeat. "I'll have his discharge papers drawn up," the doctor said then silently left the room.

John joined his sons, his hand immediately taking Sam's up from the bed. No words were spoken as the three older Winchesters sat lost in thought, their minds wandering to the previous two days. Sam's eyes closed and he fell into an exhausted slumber.

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_**Two Days Prior**_

_Sam lay restlessly in his bed, his hair and hospital gown plastered to his sweat soaked body. His rising temperature showed no sign of relenting. The infection raged through his body and his family watched helplessly as he drifted further and further away from them. Ice packs had been placed around Sam's neck and under his arms and knees in order to cool his fever wracked body, but they did little to give him relief._

Dean and Daniel took turns washing Sam's body with cool, wet washcloths. Their gentleness with their baby brother amazed John and their 'uncles', all having seen how intense and ruthless the two could be when on a hunt. They spoke softly and lovingly to Sam, hoping to break through the fever induced stupor that the youngest hunter had fallen into. Sam merely stared ahead, his eyes sometimes roaming the room, but not seeing the worried faces that watched over him. His incoherent ramblings scared the men in the room beyond belief.

It was at 2:00 AM on the second morning when Sam, in a moment of clarity, asked his family a question that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. John and Dean were seated to Sam's right, Daniel and Caleb to his left, and Bobby sat hunched on the floor beneath the window. All of the men, save John, softly dozed until a weak voice brought them fully awake. John immediately took Sam's hand as the other men leaned in close in order to hear the weak whisper that was all Sam could muster.

"Dad?"

"I'm here Sammy. We're all here. Do you need anything son?" John answered, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Dad...I'm so...tired," Sam whispered, tears beginning to fall from his tired, red eyes.

"I know baby, I know. You're fighting so hard and we are all so proud of you Sammy."

"I...I need you...to let me go Daddy."

The men gasped in shock. Was Sam saying what they thought he was? John spoke softly, his voice shaking with emotion.

"What do you mean Sam? What does that mean?" he asked fearfully.

"I can't...do this...anymore. It hurts so much...and I...I'm just so tired."

"Sammy please, just fight a little longer. I know it hurts, but we're right here Sam. Please don't give up."

"Dad? Mom wants me to come...with her."

"No! She can't have you! You belong with us. Don't you give up Sam. Don't you dare!" Dean shouted as he came to his feet, his face red.

Sam closed his eyes, his labored breathing filling the ears of the distraught men. Sam opened his pain filled eyes again and glanced at his brother.

"Dean...I'm not...strong enough. It's...it's too hard."

"Bull Sam. You're stronger than any of us. Look at what you survived. Please don't give up Sammy. I can't...we can't live without you."

"Sammy? Please...we need you. Before you were born we were happy and all, but there was something missing. When you came into our lives, we were complete. Our family was complete. If you leave us, we fall apart. Our family falls apart," Daniel pled, tears staining his cheeks.

Sam turned his eyes to Daniel and smiled warmly as he reached his hand out, which Daniel gently took into his. "I'm so...tired, but I'll try...I'll try to...hold on...a little...longer," Sam said breathlessly.

The three Winchesters sighed with relief as Bobby and Caleb stood aside, heads bowed, hiding the tears that filled their own eyes.

From there, Sam fell into a fitful sleep, his breathing worsening to the point that he was fitted with an oxygen mask. His family desperately clung to him, pled with him, comforted him and each other. The men watched as Sam seemingly worsened, his weakened body unable to fight off the infection that ravaged it. But Sam was a Winchester, and he had a few surprises for his family.

Five hours after falling into the sleep that even his family didn't think he would wake from, Sam's fever broke. Two hours after that he woke up and graced his loved ones with a dimpled smile that made their weary hearts soar. Dr. Drake ordered tests and was pleased when the results showed that Sam had turned the corner and was on the road to recovery once again.

That was yesterday, and now they were desperate to get Sam out of the hospital and into seclusion where they could wait for Wilcox and end him forever.

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**That poor kid. I wonder if they'll capture and kill Wilcox without a hitch? Hmmmmmmmm...doesn't really fit with how the rest of the story has gone does it? More later tonight. Loves.**

**Cindy.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Okay, this is a very short chapter so I hope you don't mind if I post another one later. I hope you enjoy. No action, just some sweet family time.**

**Cindy.**

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Sam sat on the edge of his bed, his shoulders slumped as he waited for his dad and oldest brother to return to take him from the hospital. Dean sat next to Sam, his arm wrapped around his back as he held his little brother up. Although Sam was improving, he was still quite weak from his ordeal and needed assistance to keep from falling over. Sam leaned into Dean and rested his head against Dean's shoulder. Dean pulled Sam closer and rested his cheek on Sam's head. The door opened then and John and Daniel entered the room. Daniel carried a shopping bag in his hand as he walked up to his brothers. He cupped Sam's cheek with his hand and smiled down at him.

"Hey kiddo. How ya feeling?" he asked warmly.

Sam raised his head and looked up to his oldest brother. "I'm okay Daniel. A little tired, but okay," he answered weakly.

"Dad, maybe we should wait a few days before we take Sammy to the cabin," Dean suggested as he glanced worriedly at Sam.

"We've talked about this Dean; he can't stay here. It's not safe," John replied as he eyed his youngest wearily.

"He's still so weak Dad. Look at him, he can barely sit up!" Dean pled.

"Hey...I'm right here. Please...don't talk about me...like I'm not," Sam quipped from the bed.

Dean looked at Sam, his eyebrow arched. "Well, I guess you are feeling better aren't you smarty?" he responded as a grin crept over his face.

Daniel flicked Sam's nose playfully and winked at him when Sam looked up at him. Sam smiled warmly then once again rested his head on Dean's shoulder. John stepped up to his sons and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam looked pale and drained and John looked down on him with concern.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah Dad?" Sam answered as he lifted his eyes to John's face.

"Do you want to stay here a few more days? If you're not feeling up to this..." John started.

"No. I want...to go. Please. I'm okay...really," Sam replied, his eyes pleading.

"Okay kiddo. Whatever you want Sam. I'll go see about a wheelchair so we can get you out of here." With that, John left Dean and Daniel to help Sam dress himself in the new tee shirt and sleep pants that had been purchased for him.

When John returned with a wheelchair he found his sons ready to go. Sam was laid back on the bed, his eyes closed. Dean sat on the end of the bed and Daniel stood to the side.

"Hey Sammy. You ready to go?" John asked as he pushed the chair up to the bed.

Sam opened his eyes and smiled softly. He attempted to push himself up, but when he faltered, Daniel reached down and helped him sit up all of the way. John stepped up and wrapped his arm around Sam's back and took Sam's arm with his other hand. He gently pulled Sam up, grimacing as he felt just how thin his son had become. He manuevered Sam around and carefully lowered him into the wheelchair. Dean crouched down and helped Sam place his socked feet onto the footrests.

Dr. Drake entered the room and smiled at the Winchesters, then approached Sam. He kneeled down so he could look Sam in the eyes. He patted his knee lightly and smiled.

"How are you doing Sam? How's your head? Are you ready to get out of here?" the doctor asked.

"I'm better Dr. Drake, thank you. My head doesn't hurt as much and yes...I really want...to go," Sam answered.

"Okay, I'm just going to talk to your dad and brothers for a moment to let them know what they need to know to make sure you keep getting better. We'll just be right over there, okay?"

Sam smiled and nodded then turned his gaze out the window. After a few minutes, his family returned to him and they wheeled him out of the room and soon were pushing him through the front doors of the medical center. John rushed across the parking lot and retrieved Dean's Impala and pulled it up to the front of the hospital. Dean and Daniel helped Sam into the backseat then Dean climbed in beside him. Sam leaned over and rested against his brother. Daniel climbed into the front seat after returning the wheelchair to the hospital and soon the family Winchester was on the road, heading north to Prescott, where Bobby and Caleb were waiting for them at the secluded cabin of Bobby's friend.

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A tall figure stood at the corner of the hospital building, watching as the Winchester men loaded Sam into the black car, attempting to steal the boy away from him. A sly grin spread across Michael Wilcox's face as he watched the car drive away.

"Soon Sam. Soon we'll be together," he whispered , then turned and disappeared around the side of the building.

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**There you go. I will post one more later to make up for the shortness of this one. Love to you all.**

**Cindy.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Here's the bonus chapter to make up for the short one prior to this. I hope you like the calm before the storm that is coming. **

**Cindy.**

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Deputy Alan Ridgeway hurried down the hall of the PCCU at the medical center and came to a halt outside Sam's room, confused when he saw the door wide open and the bed empty and made up. He turned in time to see Dr. Drake stroll towards him.

"Hey doc! Where's Sam. Where is the rest of the Winchesters?" he asked as he shook the doctors outstretched hand.

"Gone. Left about two hours ago," the doctor replied.

"Gone? Where did they go?"

"I don't know, they wouldn't tell me. Said it was safer if I didn't know."

"Why? What about Sam? Should he be out of the hospital yet? I mean so soon after...everything?" the deputy asked with concern.

"They didn't think they could protect him here. He's past the worst part, just needs to build up his strength. You know, I think they still believe it was Michael Wilcox who attacked Sam again."

"Well, it's funny you should say that doc."

"What do you mean Alan?"

"Uh...I ran the prints from the duct tape used to bind Sam to his bed and I got a match..."

"Okay...Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?"

"It's crazy, I know, but the prints came back as a match for Michael Wilcox."

Dr. Drake stood, his mouth hanging open, and stared at the deputy for a moment before he was able to talk.

"Well, that's just...that's impossible! There must be a mistake. Wilcox is dead."

"There's no mistake. I ran the prints twice to be sure. Then I had our print expert examine them. It's a 99.9 percent chance that the prints belong to Wilcox."

"But Wilcox is dead! It can't be Alan. It can't be!"

"I know doc, but Sam said it was Wilcox and the description the Winchesters gave of the man leaving Sam's room match Wilcox. And let's not forget, his body just up and disappeared from the morgue. I don't know what to think here."

"I don't either. Dead men attacking boys in their hospital beds? It's insane Alan. And it makes me that much more scared for Sam Winchester."

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**Three Days Later-Prescott Arizona**

John paced the length of the porch on the front of the cabin, his eyes moving along the tree line in search of any movement that was out of place. Dean stood in the doorway of the cabin, his arms crossed over his chest, watching his father as he paced.

"Where's Bobby and Caleb?" Dean asked as he pushed away from the doorjamb.

"Walking the perimeter, out of sight," John answered, his eyes never leaving the trees.

"What's going on Dad? Why hasn't Wilcox shown up? What's he waiting for?"

"He's hoping we let down our guard, get careless. Then he can grab Sam right out from under our noses," John replied, turning to his son.

"Not gonna happen! No way!" Dean spat.

"No, it's not," John replied, turning his attention to the door when Daniel appeared with Sam by his side.

Dean turned and stepped to the door, holding the screen open as Daniel helped Sam to the porch swing. Once Sam was seated, Daniel took the space next to him. Dean sat in the chair next to the swing while John moved to lean against the porch railing, facing his sons.

"Sam? I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be out here," John said as he eyed his youngest.

"I'm tired of being cooped up all the time Dad. I just need a little fresh air is all," Sam replied as he leaned back in his seat.

"I'm just a bit leery of you being outside Sam, where you can be seen."

"Maybe he's not coming. He hasn't shown up yet, maybe he won't," Sam replied hopefully.

"I don't think so Sam. I think he's just biding his time. I wish we didn't have to worry about him anymore, but we do. You won't be safe until he's dead. For good this time."

"I don't want any of you to get hurt because of this Dad. It's my fault that Michael Wilcox hurt me. My fault he's still after me. It's always my fault; everything bad that happens..." Sam said sadly, looking past his dad to the trees beyond.

"Sam...it is not your fault about Wilcox. Not about anything else either," Daniel said, laying his hand on Sam's knee.

"I got in his car Daniel. I would rather have died of heatstroke and dehydration than go through what he wanted," Sam answered.

"He wanted you in that car Sam. If you hadn't gotten in, he would have made you," Dean said, looking at his dad then Sam.

"Yeah, 'cause I'm weak. Can't defend myself. I'm useless. Dad's right; he should be disappointed in me. You all should be."

"No Sam! You're not useless, or weak. You're alive right now because of your strength. You stopped Wilcox from doing what he intended," Daniel insisted, imploring Sam with his eyes.

"Sam, what I said. What Dean said that night? We didn't mean it son. We were mad and we wanted you to know it. I have never been disappointed in you, and I'm sorry that I've made you feel that way. I just worry about you. I want you to be able to take care of yourself if we're not around, and you proved that you can," John said as he crossed the porch to crouch down in front of his son. He lightly squeezed Sam's hand.

"I couldn't even fight him off in the hospital. He taped me to that bed and I didn't even wake up until it was too late! Way to take care of myself."

"Don't even go there Sam! You were drugged up and sick. We were supposed to be taking care of you; watching out for you. You shouldn't have even been alone to be put in that situation. That's on us, not you!" Dean cried, lowering his head into his hands.

Sam reached out and touched Dean's shoulder and Dean raised his eyes to meet his brothers. "I don't blame you for that Dean. None of you. You can't be there every minute of every day," Sam said softly.

"Well, you shouldn't blame yourself either Sam. And if you need us to be, we should be there every minute. Whatever it takes," Dean replied.

Sam smiled softly as he leaned back once more. John continued to kneel in front of Sam and gazed at his son, a question on his lips that he was having a hard time putting into words. Sam looked at him curiously.

"Dad? What?" Sam asked.

"Uh...Sam? About that night. Did...did Wilcox...touch you? Did he hurt you? I mean other than what we know about?" John stammered, fear of the answer causing his heart to pound in his chest.

Sam swallowed convulsively, nervously glancing between his family members and then the trees beyond. Daniel placed his arm across Sam's shoulders and pulled him to his side. He nodded with encouragement when Sam turned his teary eyes to him.

"No...no he didn't. He was...going to I think, but then he..." Sam started.

"He what Sam?" John asked, relief washing over him.

"He seemed to sense you were coming. He said we would finish later. He said I belonged to him and that he had marked me; that he could find me no matter what and then he could finish what he started. He said...uh..." Sam trailed off, his head dropping so his chin rested on his chest.

John reached his fingers beneath Sam's chin and gently lifted his face. "He said what Sam? It's okay son, you're safe now. You know that right? We aren't going to let him near you again."

"I know Dad. Uh...he said that I...that I tasted sweeter...than the others. He said he was going to..." Sam dropped his eyes, holding back a sob. His breathing quickened as his panic rose.

"It's okay Sam. Just breathe. Slow and easy," Dean coached.

"Sorry. I...uh...he said he was going to...he was gonna make it last longer with me," Sam finished and sank back in the swing.

Daniel pulled Sam closer and eyed Dean and John as they began to pace the porch once again. Rage burned in their eyes. The same rage raced through Daniel's veins, but he kept it in check as he comforted his baby brother. Sam leaned into him, feeling weak and embarrassed, but mostly ashamed.

Sam didn't raise his eyes, didn't want to see the pity or disgust that he was sure he would see on his family's faces. They must think him to be dirty now, tainted. Even though Wilcox hadn't done the deed, not yet, he had done other things. His lips had been on Sam's, his tongue in Sam's mouth. His hands had caressed Sam's body and his family knew about it. All of it. Sam shuddered with self loathing at what he had allowed to happen to him. Now his father and brothers would never look at him the same.

Sam felt like yesterdays trash and wished he had just died in that crash. Or better yet, he wished he had just wandered off into the desert, never to be found. That way his family wouldn't have to live with the embarrassment. They could have forgotten about him and gotten on with their lives. He knew they would be better off without him, even though they would never admit it. Their reaction now proved it. They were mad at him. Disgusted with him. And now they were in danger because of him. Wilcox would hurt them, even kill them to get to him. Sam felt sick and suddenly needed to get away from his family, away from the sideways glances and pity.

"I'm...I'm going back to bed. I'm sorry...I...I'm sorry," he cried as he pulled away from Daniel's grasp and rose shakily from the swing.

Daniel stood to follow him, but Sam stopped him. "No! I can do it myself. Please, just leave me alone."

Sam started for the door then stopped and turned once more, his gaze falling on John. "Dad...I'm sorry. Dean and Daniel never would have let this happen to them. I'm sorry I'm not like them. I'm sorry that I can't be the son you want me to be. I try Dad, I really do." Sam turned again and stepped through the door.

"Sam..." John said as he started toward his baby, but stopped when the screen door slammed shut before him. He turned to see the shocked faces of his other sons. _'Oh Sammy, I_ _thought we were past this,'_ John thought sadly as he slowly sat and lowered his face into his hands.

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**There you go. Please let me know what you think. Have a good night.**

**Cindy.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Okay folks, here is the next chapter. The rollercoaster ride goes into full swing with this chapter. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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**Later That Evening**

John, Daniel, Bobby and Caleb sat at the kitchen table staring at their plates as their meals sat untouched, getting cold. Dean shuffled into the room and took his seat. John eyed his son, noting the look of dejection on his tired face.

"Sammy still won't come out?" John asked after clearing his throat.

"Won't unlock the door, won't talk to me. He's hurting and he won't let me help him. I don't know what to do Dad. Wilcox did a number on him. We did a number on him. I'm worried about him and, he hasn't taken his meds either. SHIT!!" Dean cried as he slammed his fist onto the table.

The men sat there, each glancing at the empty chair between John and Dean. No one had an appetite, their worry for their youngest member of their small family overpowering any thoughts of food. One by one they stood and carried their full plates to the trashcan and dumped their uneaten food in, then placed their plates and utensils in the sink.

The men walked to the livingroom, some taking a seat and some standing, but all sneaking glances at the closed door that locked them away from Sam. Daniel approached the door and lifted his fist to knock, but dropped it to his side and just leaned against the door, his head tipped and touching the faded wood. A few minutes later Bobby stood and headed for the front door with Caleb following close after.

John sat on the sofa, his hands clasped together and resting on his knees. He watched Dean as he paced back and forth, his eyes moving to the locked door and Daniel and then back to Dean. John was just about to speak when Caleb burst through the door, his face flushed.

"John! Get out here, we have a visitor!" Caleb cried, then turned and rushed back out into the night.

John jumped up from the sofa and ran to the door, Dean and Daniel on his tail. They broke out onto the porch in time to see Bobby and Caleb standing in the front yard shining their flashlights into the trees. The men flinched when they caught movement in the right hand corner of the yard. John turned to his sons and shouted instructions.

"Dean, grab our flashlights! Daniel, you stay here with Sam. Don't let anyone into the cabin!"

Dean rushed inside and grabbed two flashlights, then hurried back outside, handing one to his father.

"Do you both have your daggers?"

When both sons nodded, John continued. "Remember, the dagger must penetrate the tattoo, then the heart. We can't fail here. This is for Sam."

Daniel stepped back into the doorway and watched his father and brother disappear into the black forest where Bobby and Caleb had gone a few minutes before. He glanced back at Sam's door, thankful now that Sam had locked himself in. He was also thankful for the small window in the room that would not allow anything larger than a raccoon to climb through. The back door had been barred shut and all other windows were either too small for a human to fit in or were boarded up. The only way into the cabin was through the front door and Daniel stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes staring out across the yard.

Daniel glanced once more at Sam's room then took one step through the door and onto the porch. He glanced from one side of the porch to the other, ever alert for any movement or sound. As he turned his head back to the left, he caught a quick movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he could react he was grabbed and his head was slammed into the doorjamb. Daniel was out cold before he hit the porch floor.

Michael Wilcox stepped over Daniel's still form and entered the cabin, a cruel grin on his lips. His eyes surveyed the room and landed on the closed door at the start of the hallway. He stared at it for a moment, sensing his prize was behind the door. His grin widened.

"Come out, come out wherever you are Sammy," he whispered to himself. He crossed the room and silently crept past the door and into the kitchen beyond. He'd wait for his prey, confident that Sam would emerge soon and then the fun would begin.

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After Sam left his family on the porch, he hurried to his room, locking the door behind him. Only when the door was secured did he let out the sobs he had been holding in. He collapsed onto his bed, lying on his stomach and pressed his face into his pillow, the sobs wracking his body. Soon exhaustion pulled Sam into sleep and the next time he awoke, it was to Dean's voice on the other side of the door, imploring him to come out and talk. Only Sam didn't want to talk.

Sam turned on his side, facing the wall, trying to ignore his brother's pleas. Finally, Dean gave up and Sam heard him walk down the hall to the kitchen. Why would his family want him to come out? Why would they want him at the same table with them? He was sullied, dirty. He certainly wasn't worthy of sitting down to a meal with them, but for some reason that Sam couldn't understand, they wanted him there. He was well aware it was way past the time for his meds, but he didn't care. He just wanted to wake up from this nightmare and find that his family still loved and respected him, that a dead, but not dead madman wasn't after him. But this was a nightmare he couldn't wake from. This was real.

Sam sat up when he heard the other men walk by his door and into the livingroom. A few minutes later he heard urgent voices but couldn't make out what they were saying. He got up from his bed and walked to the door then pressed his ear against it. Soon all he heard was silence from the cabin beyond the door. He stood there for several minutes and was just about to unlock the door when he heard a soft bang followed by a louder thud, then nothing. His fingers closed around the door lock and paused as he fought with what he should do. He could hear his father's voice in his head saying to stay put, but something nagged at him. Something told him his family was in danger.

With no regard for his own safety, Sam quietly unlocked the door and pulled it open. He stuck his head out and glanced from side to side. The livingroom was empty and the front door was wide open. The sofa obstructed his view of the full door, so Sam crept from his room and slowly made his way to the door. When he came around the sofa, his heart stopped at the sight of his oldest brother lying just outside the door on his stomach, a small pool of blood beneath his forehead.

Sam rushed to the door and dropped to his knees at Daniel's head, his hand tentatively reaching out. A sound behind him made him stop and turn his head. A shiver ran down his spine when he heard a soft chuckle.

"So Sammy, how does it feel to know your brother died trying to protect you?" the unmistakable voice of Michael Wilcox asked from behind him.

Sam's eyes darted back to Daniel, trying to determine if he was breathing.

"N-no...you're lying. H-He isn't dead," Sam stammered as he inched closer to his brother. He reached his hand out and laid it on Daniel's back, hoping to feel the steady rise and fall that meant Daniel was still alive.

"Believe what you want Sam. If he isn't dead now, he will be. When I'm finished with you, I'm going to find your family and kill them all. And it will be your fault Sam. If you would have just accepted your fate to begin with, none of this would be happening and your family would be safe."

Sam cried out and threw himself at Daniel, begging him to wake up. Suddenly he felt a hand grab his hair and begin to pull him up. He clung to his brother, but steadily was losing his grip. He felt something cold and hard at Daniel's side and realized it was the silver dagger. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt and pulled the knife free as he was jerked to his feet.

Wilcox spun Sam around and as he came to face him, Sam lunged at the bigger man and plunged the dagger into his chest. Wilcox released Sam and staggered back, his shocked eyes falling down to the dagger imbedded in the left side of his chest. He reached his hand up and grasped the hilt of the dagger then pulled it slowly out of his body. He raised his pained face to meet Sam's eyes then grinned evilly. Sam took a step backward, his eyes never leaving Wilcox.

"You missed Sammy. A half an inch lower and you might have just gotten away," the deranged man cackled, then with speed that caught Sam off guard he lunged at the boy, backhanding him across the face and sending him crashing into the wall beside him.

Sam slid down the wall to the floor as stars danced before his eyes. He raised his fingers to his mouth and found that his cut up lip had been ripped open once again. The taste of copper was heavy on his tongue. He looked up just in time to see Wilcox tower above him, then reach down and grab him by the throat and pull him up from the floor. Wilcox shoved Sam into the wall, his hand still firmly around his throat. He pushed the bloody dagger toward Sam's eye, the tip a fraction of an inch from puncturing the sensitive organ. Sam's breathing came out in ragged gasps as Wilcox began to speak.

"You're going to pay for that Sam. There'll be no quick way out for you. I can make our fun last for days and then watch you die a slow and painful death. You only have one decision to make. Do you want your family to go on, unhurt? You walk out with me, no fight, and I leave them alone. You fight me and they die, starting with your brother over there. You can even watch me as I gut him like a pig. So, what's it going to be Sammy boy?" Wilcox hissed, his spittle showering Sam's face.

Sam turned his frightened eyes to the doorway and his beloved brother. Tears spilled from his eyes as he turned back to Wilcox. He lowered them and Wilcox had his answer. Wilcox released his hold on Sam's throat, then lowered the dagger to Sam's chest.

"Just a little gift to leave your family. A token to remember you by."

Wilcox took the dagger and sliced down the front of the tee shirt Sam wore, cutting into the delicate skin beneath. He then pulled the shirt from Sam's body, pressed it over the bleeding wound to soak up the blood and tossed it onto the floor. He grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him across the room toward the kitchen. Sam stumbled along obediently, turning his head for one last glimpse of his brother before Wilcox had him in the kitchen at the back door. Wilcox grabbed the first metal bar and effortlessly tore it from the doorframe. After a few moments, he had the door open and pushed Sam ahead of him and out onto the back porch.

Without warning, Sam was punched in the back of the head and he instantly fell into darkness. Wilcox caught Sam's suddenly limp body as it fell then slung him over his shoulder. He stepped off the porch and crossed the dark yard, then turned and smiled back at the cabin. He turned back around and disappeared into the trees, his prize finally in his possession.

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**Um...I'm in hiding right now. You can all let me know when it's safe to come out and post the next chapter. Please let me know what you think, but go easy on me if you can. Take care.**

**Cindy.**


	25. Chapter 25

**First off...SORRY SORRY SORRY!!!!!!!!!!! In my replies to my reviewers I said the next chapter was coming right up. Well, when I went in to upload the chapter, the document manager page was not working. I couldn't remove old chapters to make room for new ones, couldn't upload my chapter. I sent the error code to the proper folks and tried several more times over the next hours to post. Anyway, to make a long story short, it's working this morning. I hope this chapter makes up for the delay.**

**Cindy.**

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Dean crept through the trees, his eyes and ears ever alert for movement and sound. He held his pistol ready even though he knew it wouldn't kill Wilcox. He hoped that it would slow him down enough so he could get close and use the dagger to end him for good. Dean had been sneaking around the woods for what seemed like hours and had not seen hide nor hair of the vile man he hunted. Thoughts of Sam and what he had endured assaulted his mind, spurring him on and giving him the spark he needed to keep looking.

Dean was consumed with overwhelming hatred for the man who had put the haunted look in his baby brother's eyes. The man who invaded Sam's sleep and caused him to scream out in terror, his hair plastered to his sweat soaked brow. Sam was sixteen for God's sake! It was bad enough that he had been forced to grow up the way he had, but to be victimized in such a way now was down right cruel. His biggest concern should be what to wear on his next big date, not whether he or another member of his family survived the next hunt or whether the previously dead pervert who stalked him would be successful in his endeavor.

Dean stopped ubruptly, all thoughts pushed aside when he heard a rustling in the trees to his right. He trained his gun on the path coming from the forest and waited for his target to emerge. Dean barely managed to not pull the trigger when instead of Wilcox appearing before him, John stepped from the trees. He lowered his pistol as John stepped closer.

"Dad! I nearly shot you. Give a guy some warning next time!" he spat.

"We need to get back to the cabin, Dean. Now!" John snapped without ceremony then headed in the direction of the cabin.

An uneasy feeling crept over Dean and he hurried to catch up to his father.

"What's wrong Dad?" Dean asked breathlessly as he pulled up next to John.

"I've tried reaching Daniel on his cell and am not getting an answer. I just have a bad feeling. Now hurry up Dean!"

"How long have we been out here? How long have you been trying to reach Dan?" Dean asked, the urgency in John's voice kicking up the panic in his own.

"Uh...been out here about an hour. Been trying Daniel for fifteen minutes," John answered, picking up his pace even more.

Dean silently kept pace with John, a jumble of thoughts racing through his head. Maybe Daniel's cell phone was dead. He was notorious for not recharging it enough. But Dean could swear he saw it on the charger the previous day. Maybe Wilcox had shown up and Daniel had taken him out and was busy calming Sam. No, he would have called right away to let them know if that had happened. Dean kept coming back to something being wrong at the cabin and he picked up his speed, passing John in his haste to get to his brothers. John pulled up next to him and the two men glanced at each other, desperation mirrored in their eyes.

"Did you call Bobby or Caleb?" Dean asked his father.

"Yeah, told 'em to meet us at the cabin," John replied.

Ten minutes later the two Winchesters broke through the treeline and into the front yard of the cabin. They glanced up at the cabin as they hurried across the grass then turned their heads briefly as Bobby and Caleb burst through onto the opposite side of the yard. Dean reached the porch steps first followed closely by John, Bobby and Caleb. As he reached the top of the steps he glanced right, his eyes landing on the open screen door. His eyes fell and his breathing hitched as he saw his older brother sprawled on the floor, his arms and legs moving clumsily as consciousness returned to him.

"Daniel!" Dean yelled as he ran across the porch and dropped to his knees next to his brother.

Daniel moaned as Dean grabbed his shoulders and gently turned him over. Blood covered Daniel's face where it had flowed from a cut above his left eyebrow and his eyes peered at Dean for a moment before recognition played across his face. John dropped next to Dean and he grabbed Daniels arm to help pull him up into a sitting position. Bobby and Caleb pulled up behind the Winchesters and shared a concerned look.

Daniel looked shakily from Dean to his father, then his eyes widened in panic.

"Sam..." he rasped frantically. "Oh my God, no...Sammy!"

John was on his feet and moving in a heartbeat, screaming his baby's name as he ran toward Sam's room. John stopped when he crossed the threshold of the bedroom, his eyes darting around the room, but not finding what he was looking for. His heart raced as he turned and left the room, then headed back to his older sons. As he neared the door, his eyes caught something light blue discarded on the floor. He took the few steps toward the fireplace and stooped down to retrieve the pile of fabric. As he picked it up, the fabric opened up and John nearly quit breathing when he saw what he was holding.

John walked to the door where Dean, Caleb and Bobby had gotten a shaky Daniel to his feet. He held the shredded shirt in his trembling hands as he approached his family. Dean gazed up at him, followed by Daniel and the two other hunters. They looked at him expectantly.

"Sammy?" Dean asked nervously, his wide eyes falling onto the garment in his father's hands.

John shook his head slowly and held the shirt out toward his boys. The other men glanced at the shirt, their hearts sinking as they saw the cut fabric. Blood tinged the edges of the cut and also soaked several spots over the shirt. Daniel reached out his hands and took the shirt as his brother and friends helped him into the cabin. Tears fell from his eyes as he stared down at the bloody garment. Sam's blood.

"Sammy's shirt...oh God, I'm so sorry. My fault...all my fault..." he cried as he tugged the shirt to his chest.

John grabbed Daniel's shoulders and pulled him around to meet his eyes.

"This is not your fault Daniel. This was a ploy to get us away from the cabin, to separate us. And it worked. I fell for it Daniel. We all did. It's not your fault!"

"But Dad...he has Sammy! I had one job...one job Dad...watch out for Sammy, keep him safe. Keep Wilcox away from him. I screwed up and now he has my brother!" Daniel's knees suddenly buckled and John grabbed him up before he fell to the floor.

"Dean, get me some water from the kitchen! Hurry!" John shouted.

Dean headed for the kitchen as Bobby and Caleb helped John get Daniel on the sofa. Dean came back with the glass of water and looked at his father fearfully.

"They went out the back door," Dean stated as he handed the water to Daniel.

Bobby and Caleb raced to the kitchen as Dean took a seat next to Daniel. Daniel still held Sam's shirt next to his chest. He stared out across the room, his eyes landing on Sam's door. It didn't look to be damaged which could only mean that Sam had opened it.

"Why did he open his door? Why didn't he just stay locked inside? He was safe in there. Why the hell is this happening? Why Sam?!!!" Daniel cried as he pulled Sam's tee shirt up to his face and dropped his head into his hand, breathing in his little brothers scent.

John squeezed Daniel's shoulder, then rose and headed to the kitchen to get a wet cloth to clean Daniel's cut. He came back and cleaned the wound. Daniel refused to be stitched, insisting they didn't have the time. John relented and put butterfly bandages on it instead. As he finished up, Bobby and Caleb returned to the livingroom.

"Can't find a trail on 'em John," Bobby said as they neared the sofa.

"Did you ever spend a lot of time here Bobby?" John asked his friend.

"Used to come alot and do some huntin'. Regular huntin', ya know," Bobby replied.

"Is there any place out there Wilcox might take Sam? A cave, mine shaft or other buildings?" John asked as he rose from the sofa.

"Don't remember any caves or what not. There was an old hunting cabin 'bout three miles out. Was at the end of one of the trails. Was a one room cabin. It may still be there. That's about all I can remember."

"I'd say that would be the best bet. Do you know how to get there?" Dean queried, pulling Daniel up from the sofa.

"There's three trails leading out there. Can't remember which one takes you to the cabin. Sorry." Bobby hung his head, unable to meet the Winchester's eyes.

"We'll have to split up. Daniel, maybe you ought to say here and..." John started.

"No way! Sammy's out there with that lunatic and it's my fault. I'm going!" Daniel spat.

"Fine. You and Dean take the first trail, Bobby and Caleb the second, and I'll take the third. Whomever finds the cabin calls the others. Everyone have their weapons?"

"Yep, got it right here," Caleb answered, fingering his dagger.

Dean and Bobby nodded while Daniel patted his jeans down then spun around looking at the floor. "Can't find my dagger. It was on my belt, now it's gone," he said to his father.

"You suppose Sam somehow got hold of it? Tried to take Wilcox out?" Dean asked.

"Could be. Or Wilcox has it," John replied fearfully, glancing at Sam's cut shirt lying on the sofa.

The men glanced at each other then wordlessly made their way to the back porch, grabbing flashlights on the way out. Once in the yard they stopped and faced each other.

"Okay, let's go get our boy back," John said confidently to the others.

The men separated and found their paths leading into the woods. They had one thing in mind and one thing only. Find Sam and kill his tormentor once and for all.

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The first thing Sam became aware of upon waking was the pounding in his head and a dull throb running down the length of his chest. He forced his eyes open and blinked several times as they adjusted. Sam's befuddled mind tried to remember what had happened to bring him to this place. He slowly sat up and immediately squeezed his eyes shut when the room around him spun out of control. He took several deep breaths until the dizziness subsided. He opened his eyes again and gazed at his surroundings. He was in a small cabin, a shack really. He sat on a filthy mattress in one corner of the shack. A cast iron woodstove sat a few feet from the end of the mattress and an old wooden table sat in the middle of the floor, a lighted oil lamp perched on a filthy counter just past the table.

Sam's hand went to his aching chest and he looked down, seeing for the first time the cut that ran from the top of his sternum to just above his navel. It was at that moment that the memories of the most recent events crashed into Sam and he physically recoiled.

"Daniel! Oh my God...please God...please let him be okay," Sam whispered hoarsely.

Sam stood from the mattress, shivering when his bare feet hit the cold, wooden floor. He glanced nervously around the shack as he crept across to the door. Wilcox was nowhere to be seen. Sam slowly opened the door and stepped out onto the small porch. He took two steps away from the shack when a strong hand gripped his shoulder, spinning him around until he stood face to face with pure evil.

"Where ya going Sammy?" Wilcox hissed as he pulled the terrified teenager to his chest. Wilcox leaned close to Sam's ear and whispered coldly.

"Time to play Sam."

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**WHAT!!?? Another evil cliffy!! What is it with me? Don't worry, there will be more later. Please let me know what you think. **

**Cindy.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Alright! Time for another chapter. I couldn't leave you all with that cliffy for very long. Contrary to what some of you think, I am not evil!! LOL So, here it is. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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_"Time to play Sam."_

And with that, Wilcox grabbed Sam's hair and dragged him back into the shack. Just inside the door, Sam spun quickly and punched as hard as he could into the wound he had inflicted earlier. Wilcox grunted, then growled venomously as he grabbed Sam's arm and literally threw him across the room. Sam's hip and shoulder collided violently with the wall and he dropped to the floor with a loud thud. Sam curled in on himself, gasping for air, his head swimming with the pain radiating throughout his body.

Before he even had a chance to catch his breath, Sam was jerked to his feet by his hair. Wilcox's eyes were wide, wild and furious. He dragged Sam to the mattress and flung him by his hair into the wall and Sam once again dropped, but onto the mattress this time. Sam lay, unable to move, unable to fight and felt his arms pulled up. Ropes were roughly wrapped around his wrists and he was flipped over onto his stomach. His arms were pulled above his head and his bound wrists were secured to a pole that ran floor to ceiling in the corner.

Sam felt Wilcox's weight press down on him as the large man straddled his thighs then practically laid on top of him. Warm breath tickled Sam's ear as Wilcox ran his lips over Sam's neck and cheek. Wilcox pushed up and abruptly grabbed Sam's hips, pulling them from the mattress. Wilcox pressed his pelvis against Sam and laughed cruelly before the taunts began.

"Do you like this position Sammy?... No?... Well you better get used to it," he spat before dropping Sam back down. "Not yet though. First I have to punish you for stabbing me you little, worthless fuck!"

Sam was roughly turned over onto his back, his wide, panicked eyes staring up at his attacker. "P-please. I'm sorry. Please d-don't do this," Sam begged, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh...I love it when they beg..." Wilcox said as he leaned down face to face with Sam. "You will be sorry Sammy boy, very sorry."

Wilcox grabbed Sam's jaw and kissed him harshly before sitting up again. He moved back somewhat, his eyes roaming down Sam's body. He shook his head and clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Those sleep pants are in the way Sam. They definitely have to go."

Sam whimpered as Wilcox pushed his fingers under the waistband of the pants and slowly began to tug them down Sam's legs. He brushed his fingers lightly over Sam's thighs, a vile grin on his lips as he pulled the pants free and tossed them to the side. Wilcox grabbed his coil of rope and cut off a length. He tied it around Sam's right ankle then pulled it taut and secured it to one leg of the woodstove. He cut another length and secured Sam's left ankle in the same manner to the other leg of the stove.

Sam struggled against the ropes, pulling until his wrists and ankles were raw. Sam stopped his struggles suddenly when Wilcox pulled the dagger from his waistband and trailed it up Sam's stomach. He stopped when the tip of the knife came to the soft spot at the base of Sam's throat. Wilcox pressed the tip into Sam's flesh and a drop of blood bubbled up from the small wound. Sam literally stopped breathing, his eyes glued to Wilcox's face.

"You stabbed me Sam. That wasn't a very nice thing to do. Now, what do you think I should do about it?" Wilcox asked, cocking his head to the side.

Sam stared at Wilcox, swallowing convulsively as the knife was pressed deeper into his throat. Wilcox abruptly lifted the knife and backhanded Sam across the face, whipping his head to the side and ripping a startled cry from his throat.

"I asked you a question Sam. Answer me!" Wilcox screamed.

Sam turned his head slowly back until he faced Wilcox. A small smile crossed his lips, more of a sneer than anything.

"Why don't you just kill me? You're going to anyway, why not get it over with?" Sam asked blankly.

Wilcox grabbed Sam's face, squeezing him painfully. "No Sam, not yet. Too much to do. No, you need to pay for what you did. Maybe I'll go back to your cabin and get that brother of yours and bring him back here. Maybe I'll take him for a ride then I'll split him open and string his insides across the floor. Would that teach you Sammy? Will you truly be sorry then?"

And that was it. Sam snapped. Unbelievable anger coursed through him as he jerked his eyes forward.

"You son of a bitch! You sorry coward! You wanted me! ME!! You do whatever you want to me, just leave my family out of this!" Sam screamed, fury and hatred filling his eyes.

Wilcox sat back, slightly taken aback.

"You think you're so tough. You can't do anything if I'm not tied up! You're nothing but a coward. You're pathetic!" Sam seethed.

Wilcox reared back and with a rage filled scream he swung the knife, burying it into Sam's right thigh. Sam arched up from the mattress as a gutwrenching scream tore from his throat.

"You want me to untie you? Fine, but it won't do you any good. I'm still going to have you Sam. I'm still going to ruin you. Then I'm going to kill you. Or you know what? Maybe I won't kill you. It would be much more painful for you if you lived. Having your beloved family look at you differently. Looking at you with disgust and loathing. Pity. Yeah, maybe that's the way to leave it," Wilcox stated coldly, then yanked the knife from Sam's leg.

Sam gasped as the pain in his leg blossomed, then he fell still, panting as sweat poured down his face and soaked his hair. Wilcox cut through the ropes holding Sam's legs then moved up and released his arms from the pole, his wrists still securely tied together. Wilcox pulled Sam up, grabbing the back of his head and pulling it up as it lolled backwards. Sam turned his pain dulled eyes on Wilcox and smiled.

"So...you untie...m-me...but you...have to s-stab me...f-first?" Sam asked, a small laugh escaping him.

"Shut up!" Wilcox screamed, then he dragged Sam to his feet and shoved him toward the table, bending him over the edge so that he lay on his stomach across the wooden surface.

Wilcox tossed the dagger onto the mattress behind him then grabbed Sam's hair, pulling his face around. His other hand reached down and gripped the waistband of Sam's boxers. He pressed his lips to Sam's, then pulled away.

"This is what you asked for Sammy, remember that," he hissed.

Sam's eyes darted frantically to the door when he felt Wilcox begin to pull his boxers down.

"NOOOOOO!!!!!" Sam screamed into the silence.  
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Dean and Daniel pushed through the trees, frustration building at every turn. Every minute they failed to find Sam was one more minute their baby brother was with Wilcox. They stepped through more trees and stopped short when before them stood a decrepit shack, a dull glow filling the windows. Dean immediately pulled out his cell phone and dialed John's number.

"We found it Dad; head east. Now!!" Dean said hurriedly as the call was answered, then snapped his phone shut.

The brothers stepped toward the shack, then ran when they heard a heartwrenching scream come from inside. The voice was unmistakably Sam's and panic pushed the brothers forward as they crashed through the door, their blood running cold at the sight that met them.

"Get the fuck off my brother you son of a bitch!" Dean screamed as he lunged at Wilcox.

Wilcox jerked back and Sam fell to the floor in a heap, his breath coming in short gasps. He saw Wilcox stumble backwards as Dean launched himself across the table into him, his fists pounding the second their bodies met.

"D-Dean..." Sam whispered hoarsely as he sagged with relief to the floor.

Sam flinched when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. His eyes jerked away from Dean and he nearly collapsed as Daniel's face leaned over him.

"It's okay Sammy. You're okay now. We're going to get you out of here," Daniel soothed.

"D-Danny? Oh God...you're okay?" Sam cried softly, tears once again trailing down his cheeks.

"I'm fine Sam. Are you okay? Did he..." Daniel trailed off, not wanting to know the answer.

"No...he didn't get...th-that f-far. Uh...he stabbed m-me Danny. I...I don't really f-feel very good..." Sam stammered.

Daniel's eyes widened with concern as he saw the blood flowing from Sam's thigh. He jerked his head up when he heard a loud crash, and watched just as Dean landed on the floor after hitting the wall. Dean lay still for a moment before slowly trying to pull himself up. Daniel stood quickly and grabbed the chair from the table, then rushed at Wilcox as he advanced on Dean. Daniel smashed the chair over Wilcox and the deranged man turned on him, grabbing him around the chest and ramming him into the wall. Wilcox dropped Daniel, who writhed in pain on the floor.

Wilcox's attention was drawn to Sam as he caught the teenager crawling toward the mattress. He crossed the room and grabbed Sam's hips. Sam turned and kicked out with his uninjured leg, catching Wilcox on the chin. Wilcox lost his grasp on Sam, and the teenager lunged for the mattress and the dagger that lay there. His fingers closed over the hilt just as Wilcox grabbed him again.

Sam flipped around and with a cry of absolute, unbridled rage he plunged the dagger deep into Wilcox's chest, piercing the tattoo and his heart. Wilcox stopped, a look of pure shock on his face as he looked at Sam in bewilderment. He clutched at the dagger, his fingers working feebly to remove it. Sam collapsed back onto the mattress, suddenly gasping when Wilcox pitched forward, landing heavily over the weakened boy. Sam attempted to push the man from atop him, but his bound wrists, the beatings he had suffered and the blood loss from his leg started his vision swimming. Sam lost consciousness just as he heard his father's surprised voice yell his name as he rushed into the cabin.

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**So, is he really dead this time? Could it finally be over? Hmmmmmmm....guess you'll find out tomorrow when I post the next chapter. Take care and let me know what you think.**

**Cindy.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hey all. I'm getting out an early post for you. Montana has once again been hit with very wintery weather and I want to get this out while I can still access my internet! There will be another chapter later today, internet permitting. I will try to reply to your comments later today if my email cooperates! I hope you enjoy this one.**

**Cindy.**

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After receiving Dean's call, John turned east and ran, crashing through the forest, his heart pounding wildly. He managed to call Bobby and relay the information to the grizzled hunter on where to find the cabin. John continued running, his legs burning with the exertion, but adrenaline pumped through him and kept him going. His baby needed him and now all three sons were with Wilcox. He could only hope that Dean and Daniel were able to kill Wilcox before he could do anymore harm to Sam.

John continued to run but stopped short when he thought he heard a cry coming from his right. He turned and ran in the direction the cry had come from. He soon cleared the trees and the cabin stood before him, the grayed timbers sagging and cracked. John ran for the door and crashed through it, yelling Sam's name as he stumbled inside. The first thing he saw was Dean on all fours attempting to pull himself from the floor. John hurried to his son's side, crouching down and draping his arm across Dean's shoulders.

"I'm okay Dad. Sam...help Sam," Dean panted, pain filling his eyes.

John lifted his eyes and looked to his left when he heard a low groan. Daniel lay on his side, his arms wrapped around his ribs, his face set in a grimace of pain. John rushed to him, but before he could drop down next to him, Daniel stopped him.

"'m'fine...Wilcox...stabbed Sam..." Daniel stammered.

John's panicked eyes roamed ahead and he froze when he saw Wilcox's body lying face down on the other side of an old woodstove. But that wasn't what turned John's blood to ice. What turned his blood to ice was seeing the bare feet that stuck out from under Wilcox's bulk. John leapt forward and was at the mattress in seconds. The first thing he noticed was that Sam was unconscious, his face bruised and pale. The second thing was that Sam's lips were tinged blue. Panic flared as John realized that Wilcox's weight must be crushing Sam's chest, constricting his breathing. Dean appeared by John's side, gasping as he looked upon Sam's lax face.

"Dean! Help me...Sam can't breathe!" John cried as he began to pull Wilcox's dead weight off of his much smaller son.

Dean kneeled on the opposite side of the large man and pushed and together he and John managed to roll him off of Sam. Dean scooted to Sam's side, glancing up as John dropped down opposite him. He looked again to Sam, gently sliding his hand beneath his neck and lifting him slowly from the mattress. John moved his arm across Sam's back, his other hand softly tapping Sam's cheek.

"Sammy...please breathe. Come on baby..." John pled.

Just as Dean was about to lay Sam back down and start artificial respiration, Sam gasped, drawing in a wheezing lungful of air. A soft moan emitted from his lips and his eyes fluttered open. He turned to Dean and tears immediately filled his eyes.

"D-Dean?" he whispered.

"I'm here Sammy. You're safe now little brother," Dean said as he brushed Sam's unruly hair from his eyes.

"I don't...feel well..." Sam said weakly.

Dean pulled Sam to his chest, hugging him close and resting his cheek in Sam's hair. John gasped as he noticed Sam's leg and he gently turned it so he could see the wound more clearly. Daniel staggered to the other Winchesters and fell heavily to his knees. Seeing his father beginning to tend to Sam's thigh, he pulled his tee shirt from his jeans and ripped off a large strip, handing it to John who balled it up and pressed it firmly over the slowly bleeding knife wound. John reached out and took another strip of material that Daniel handed to him and tied it tightly over the wound. Sam winced from inside Dean's embrace and the middle brother softly whispered in Sam's ear, calming him.

"Daniel...you okay?" John asked, his voice gruff, but concerned.

"Ribs hurt...but I don't think anything is broken," Daniel answered, his arm once again wrapped around his side.

"Dean? How about you?" John looked at his middle son who still cradled his young brother close to him.

"I'm fine Dad. It's Sammy we need to worry about," Dean replied, his face a picture of concern.

"Is Wilcox dead? Did Sammy kill him Dad?" Daniel asked from his spot on the floor.

John turned to the predator and ripped his shirt open around the still embedded dagger. John smiled softly, his heart swelling with pride. His youngest, despite everything he had been through and his weakened condition, had perservered and brought down a monster so vile it made John's skin crawl.

"Yeah, I think Sammy did it..." John said, patting Sam's knee gently, his pride shining in his smile.

Sam peered out from under his bangs, first at John then at Wilcox. He shuddered involuntarily, feeling that something was off. Sam shook it off, deciding it was probably his ordeal that had him on edge. He flinched sharply as Bobby and Caleb charged into the cabin, their weapons ready. The two men approached the Winchesters, their eyes falling to the youngest. Sam looked awful and probably felt worse, but by the looks of Wilcox, he would soon be able to put this whole episode behind him, thought Caleb of his young friend.

"We need to get Sam out of here Dad," Dean said urgently as Sam began to shiver in his arms. He could feel the heat radiating off his little brother and was terrified of a repeat of Sam's life and death struggle only days earlier.

John helped Dean move Sam off the filthy mattress and they seated him in front of the woodstove, leaning him against it for support. They removed the ropes from Sam's wrists and ankles then John smiled comfortingly.

"Sam, we need to talk to Bobby and Caleb for a minute. Just sit and rest and then we'll get you back to the cabin," John said softly, his calloused hand gently cupping Sam's cheek.

Sam nodded tiredly then laid his head back, closing his eyes. Dean, Daniel and John stood and faced Bobby and Caleb. They had just begun their discussion on what to do with Wilcox and how they were going to get Sam safely back to the cabin, when Sam yelped in pain and fear. The men jerked around in time to see Wilcox yank Sam toward him, Sam's head cracking against the woodstove as he was dragged across the floor.

Shock paralyzed the men as they witnessed Wilcox pull the dagger from his chest as he pulled Sam beneath him.

"I killed you...how...no, please..." Sam stammered as Wilcox held the knife to his belly, glaring at the five men, daring them to intervene.

"Well, Sammy boy," Wilcox croaked, "I guess between you stabbing me, and me stabbing you, your magic potion wore off. You screwed up again Sammy and your whole family's here to witness you pay for it!"

Wilcox yanked Sam hard up to him then flipped him over, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back viciously. Sam let out a strangled scream, his fingers clawing at the floor as he tried to pull himself from under Wilcox.

Dean leapt forward with frightening speed, a scream of rage filling the shack, and was on Wilcox's back before the predator knew what hit him. John rushed forward, kicking Wilcox in the face with his boot as Daniel grabbed Sam, attempting to pull him from Wilcox's grasp. Bobby and Caleb joined Daniel in trying to free Sam. Dean wrapped his arm under Wilcox's chin and pulled back, taking some of the pressure off of Sam's legs. Sam turned himself over, hating the vulnerability he felt at having his back to his attacker.

With a fury that scared even John, Dean pulled his dagger from his belt with his free hand and ruthlessly sunk it into Wilcox's neck, then ripped it across his throat, tearing through his juggler and windpipe with alarming ferocity. Blood spewed forward, covering Sam from his neck down and the traumatized boy stared at his brother, his wide eyes filled with both fear and awe.

Wilcox loosened his grip on Sam, but still refused to release him. He tried to scream his rage, but no sound came out as his voice box had been destroyed by Dean's knife. Dean pulled back harder on Wilcox's head, muscle and bone visible in the horrible gash across his throat.

"Dad...Daniel! Finish him!" Dean screamed, pulling back even harder, nearly pulling Wilcox's head from his body, yet still Wilcox maintained his hold on a now out cold Sam.

Bobby and Caleb held onto Sam's shoulders as Daniel lunged forward, grabbing Dean and helping him pull Wilcox back, exposing his chest. John fell to his knees in front of Wilcox and leaned in so Wilcox could see and hear him.

"My dagger still has plenty of magic potion you sick fuck!" John hissed, then slowly pushed the knife into the already existing wound.

Wilcox's eyes widened as John pressed the dagger in up to its hilt, then twisted the blade, smiling with cold satisfaction as Wilcox gasped, blood bubbling out of his mouth and the wound in his neck. John continued to apply pressure to the knife, his gaze never leaving Wilcox's face. He watched the life completely fade from Wilcox's eyes before he finally let loose of the dagger. Bobby and Caleb carefully pulled Sam to them, Caleb resting Sam's head in his lap. Once Sam was clear, Dean and Daniel let Wilcox fall with a thud then rushed to their brother's side.

John joined his sons, taking up a position on Sam's other side and grabbing his hand, gently squeezing it in his larger hand. Daniel leaned down and softly ran his hand through Sam's hair before gently caressing his face. Dean rubbed Sam's arm, and all eyes watched as Sam slowly came to, his frightened eyes opening wide, a soft whimper on his lips. Daniel kissed Sam's forehead then held his face in his hands.

"It's over Sam. Wilcox is dead. He'll never hurt you again," he said, tenderly brushing tears from Sam's cheeks.

"Is...is he really dead this time?" Sam whispered, his eyes moving from one man to the next.

"Yes Sammy. This time he's really dead and he's not coming back," John said, flashing Sam a reassuring smile.

"Can we go now Daddy? I don't want to be here anymore," Sam asked softly.

"Yeah Sam, we'll get you out of here," John answered.

The men gently lifted Sam up, both Dean and John grabbing his arms firmly as his knees buckled immediately. Sam looked down his body and shuddered at the sight of Wilcox's blood and turned a sickly shade of green, then doubled over and vomited all over the floor. Dean and John supported him and Daniel rubbed comforting circles on his back until the heaving stopped. Caleb picked up Sam's discarded sleep pants and began to clean the blood from Sam's chest and stomach, careful to not aggravate the puffy cut that ran down his chest.

Dean removed his jacket and gently slid Sam's arms into the sleeves, then zipped it closed. Sam attempted to take an assisted step, but his rubbery legs refused to move. John wrapped his arm around Sam's back then bent down and put his other arm behind his knees. He raised Sam off his feet, cradling the too light boy in his arms. Caleb took his outer flannel shirt off and covered Sam's legs, softly smiling at the exhausted teenager.

John looked at his two friends, then over to Wilcox's still body. "Will you two take care of that trash for me? I'm taking my boy home."

"Consider it done," Bobby stated. "See you at the cabin."

John nodded, then turned to the door. He stepped out into the night, followed by Dean and Daniel. Sam gave in to his exhaustion and his head fell backwards, bobbing with John's steps. Dean gently eased Sam's head up and rested it into the crook of John's neck. John smiled tiredly at his son then continued through the trees.

John walked on, his precious burden held protectively to his body. Dean and Daniel walked on either side of him, glancing often at their beloved baby brother. Silent tears fell from tired eyes, all three men knowing that this was far from over for Sam. For all of them. But they all secretly vowed to help their boy in any and every way possible. They would prove to him that he was very much wanted, very much needed, but above all else, very much loved.

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**Look at that people! No evil cliffy! Aren't you proud of me? Now, I finally determined that there will be 38 chapters including the epilogue so there is still plenty of story to go. That means plenty of time for more evil cliffys!! LOL Lots and lots of angst!! So, let me know what you think. **

**Cindy.**


	28. Chapter 28

**So glad you all enjoyed the last chapter and Wilcox's well deserved demise! I had originally written the chapter so that he died after Sam stabbed him through the heart, but I just felt that the older Winchester men needed their own revenge, and that is how the chapter that you read came about. Now begins the healing. Hopefully. **

**Cindy.**

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The trip back to the cabin took over two hours to complete. There were stops on the way to check Sam's stab wound and in some cases to calm him when he awoke in John's arms, kicking and screaming until he realized he was safe with his family, and it was his father's arms that held him and not Wilcox's. Sam was barely coherent at best, his fever having climbed substancially since leaving the shack.

Once they finally reached the cabin, John carefully laid Sam on the sofa while Dean drew a warm bath and Daniel went to Sam's room to find clean pajamas. John kneeled next to the sofa, pill bottles and a glass of water in hand. He softly shook Sam's shoulder, not wanting to frighten his sleeping son. Sam stirred but did not wake. John shook Sam again, softly coaxing him awake.

"Sam...wake up son. Sam, come on...you need your medicine kiddo," John said, watching Sam intently.

Sam groaned, turning his head from side to side before his eyes fluttered open. He jerked away from John's touch, his fever bright eyes wide with fear. John pulled his hand away, his heart breaking as his baby sank as far back on the sofa as he could.

"Sammy...it's me. It's Dad," John said softly, relaxing some as recognition flashed over Sam's face.

"Dad? Where are we?" Sam asked as his eyes roamed the room.

"We're back at the cabin. Bobby's friend's cabin? You're safe Sam. Remember?"

"Uh...Wilcox is dead, right?"

"Yes Sammy. He can't hurt you anymore."

"'m sorry Dad. My head's...I don't know...I feel...um...fuzzy."

"You have a fever. You need to take your medicine then we need to get you cleaned up and get your chest and leg taken care of. Then you can rest Sam."

"Tired Dad...just need to close my eyes...just for a few minutes..." Sam slurred as his eyes began to close.

"Sam...no Sam, you need to take your pills. Sam...wake up," John said, shaking Sam again.

Sam's eyes opened and he tiredly gazed at his father. "'kay Dad. Sorry..." he said as he tried to sit up.

John slid his hand under the top of Sam's back and helped him to sit up, then handed him his pills and the glass of water. Sam swallowed the pills and chased them with the water. John eased him around until Sam was sitting with his feet on the floor, his head resting against the back of the sofa. His eyes closed and his pained features went lax. John rose from his knees and sat on the coffee table, his eyes never leaving Sam's pale face. He leaned forward and softly touched Sam's cheek before turning his attention to Sam's leg.

John carefully unwrapped the makeshift bandage from Sam's stab wound, pausing when Sam whimpered in his sleep. John whispered a soft sorry before continuing to unwrap the wound. Once the wound was visible, John began to inspect it carefully. It was difficult to determine how bad it was with all of the blood and grime coating Sam's leg. The inspection would have to wait until after Sam was bathed and he could see things more clearly.

Next, John moved to the cut running down the length of Sam's chest to just above his navel. What he could see did not make him happy. The cut was red and inflamed, obviously infected. Plus there was the worrisome thought that Sam had been covered in Wilcox's blood. All of Sam's wounds had been exposed to the blood and John shuddered with the possible ramifications of that. If Wilcox had any diseases, they could easily have been transferred to his baby boy through his wounds. John shook these thoughts away, deciding to deal with it later.

John reached up and brushed Sam's unruly bangs from his face, some stray strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. John turned when he heard footsteps behind him. Dean strode up to the sofa and glanced worriedly at his brother.

"How's he doing?" Dean asked as he sat on the arm of the sofa.

"As well as can be expected I guess. With everything he's been through, I'd say he's holding up pretty good," John replied, admiration in his eyes.

Dean nodded, gently resting his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Baths ready. So, how are we going to do this? Those boxers have to come off. They're soaked in that bastards blood, but I'm worried it might upset Sam."

"Well, we'll have to deal with it. We can't leave him alone and he has to be cleaned up before I can take care of his wounds. You and Daniel get him in the tub, and I'll get the supplies together to get those wounds taken care of," John stated as he looked at his middle son.

"I don't know Dad. He's probably gonna freak out."

"I gave him one of his strong pain pills with his antibiotic and fever reducer. It should pretty much knock him out. It should be fine."

Dean nodded and rose as Daniel came into the room. Daniel frowned as he took in Sam's tortured appearance. He sighed softly as tears threatened to come. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I changed his bedding and got him clean pajamas. So, how are we doing this?"

"Dad gave him a pain pill so he's pretty much out of it. You and I will give him a bath while Dad gets things ready to stitch him up," Dean replied.

"Okay, let's get him in there. The sooner he's cleaned up and his wounds are taken care of the sooner he can rest," Daniel said as he went to Sam's left side to help Dean lift him.

"Whoa there, Dan! Let Dad help me. Your ribs may be broken," Dean started, his hand reaching over Sam to stop his older brother.

"I'm fine Dean. I'm sure they're just bruised."

"Well Daniel, until I can look at you, I'm gonna have to agree with Dean. I don't want you hurting yourself anymore," John stated as he pushed Daniel gently aside and carefully helped Dean pull Sam up from the sofa.

Daniel rolled his eyes, but silently followed as John and Dean supported Sam, practically dragging him to the bathroom. Sam's head came up slowly but his eyes remained closed, then his head dropped back to his chest, the exhausted boy unable to hold it up. Once in the bathroom, Daniel removed Sam's boxers then John and Dean lowered him into the water. Sam flinched and opened his eyes, but within seconds they closed again. Dean supported Sam's upper body and between he and Daniel they were able to get him cleaned up, being extremely careful of his injuries.

Once the tub was draining, John reappeared and with Dean's help, they manuevered Sam out of the tub where his two brothers dried him carefully then pulled a clean pair of boxers onto him. Instead of trying to walk the boy to his bed, Dean picked him up, cradling him protectively to him and carried him to his room, laying him gently on his bed. Once Sam was situated John came in and started the tedious task of disinfecting, treating and stitching Sam's wounds.

John started with the stab wound. What he found he did not like. The wound was deep and he wasn't sure if it missed the bone or not but he felt pretty certain that there would be nerve damage. He stitched it as best he could but came to the conclusion that Sam would need to be taken back to Phoenix to be treated. He would most likely need surgery to fix the muscle and nerve damage. Next, John moved to the cut on Sam's chest. It was definitely infected so John took extra care to clean it with peroxide and apply generous amounts of antibiotic ointment. There were a few places deep enough to require stitches but for the most part the cut was shallow. A gauze bandage covering that and John moved on to replacing the bandages on Sam's cheek and stomach once these had been treated.

John was a bit worried that Sam had barely even flinched throughout his ministrations and he exchanged concerned glances with his other two sons, who had refused to leave their brother's side. He finished with Sam and then allowed Dean and Daniel to dress him in his clean pajamas. Once he was dressed, John pulled the covers up around Sam then bent over him, gently kissing his forehead. He stood and watched Sam sleep for a few minutes before he started his examination of Daniel. Ten minutes later, John had determined that Daniel indeed had no broken or cracked ribs, to which Daniel had uttered a tired 'I told you so.'

John and Dean dragged the recliner from the livingroom into the bedroom for Daniel as he made it quite clear he would be sleeping in Sam's room. Daniel pulled blankets from the closet and sat in the chair, reclining it all the way back so that he could reach his hand out and touch his baby brother easily. Dean removed his shoes and top shirt then climbed onto the bed, lying next to Sam against the wall. He wrapped his arm protectively around his brother and rested his head on his other arm. Sam instinctively pressed into his brother, unconsciously seeking the safety and comfort his embrace provided.

And so that is how they slept. Daniel in the recliner, his hand outstretched and absently stroking Sam's hair, while Dean provided a protective barrier to not only any outside influences but also to the nightmares that they all knew would come, but hopefully not tonight. John peered into the room and softly smiled. He pulled another blanket from the closet and covered Dean then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Sam leaned further into his brother, his exhausted and drug induced sleep not completely cutting him off from the conscious world. He slept, wrapped in his brother's arms, cocooned in his family's love, but the hope that he would have at least one night without drama was not to be. The next chapter of Sam's nightmare was just beginning and he and all those who loved him were in for a long and bumpy ride.

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**How was that for some sweet family fluff? No evil cliffy...wow two chapters in a row! Reviews are love!**

**Cindy.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Well, here is the next chapter. Thank you all for sticking with this story. You make an old gal happy! Warning: TISSUE ALERT!!!**

**Cindy.**

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Dean awoke abruptly, not quite sure what it was that startled him. He sat up, noting he was fully clothed and sleeping in Sam's bed. Sam! He jerked his head to where Sam should be, his sleep slowed mind taking a few moments to comprehend that his brother was not there. Dean scooted across the bed, slapping Daniel's foot as he sprang to his feet. Daniel jerked awake, his surprised eyes staring up at Dean.

"What the hell Dean?!" Daniel cried.

"Sam's gone!" Dean replied as he ran out of the room.

Daniel sprang from the chair and followed Dean into the livingroom, holding his ribs tightly. He then ran to the kitchen to see if Sam was there.

"Sam! Sammy!" Dean yelled, his eyes scanning the room.

Daniel returned from the kitchen, shaking his head at Dean's inquiring look. The two brothers looked to the staircase when they heard three distinct footfalls pounding down the stairs. Three very disheveled and panicked men ran into the room.

"What! What's wrong?" John cried, his dark hair sticking out at odd angles from his head.

"Sammy's gone! I woke up and he was gone, Dad," Dean cried, running for the door and ripping it open.

Dean ran out onto the porch followed by the three oldest hunters. Daniel started after them but stopped when he heard something from across the room. He made his way toward the barely audible sound and found himself outside the bathroom door. He tried the knob, finding the door locked. He pressed his ear to the door, hearing the shower running and something else that he couldn't make out. He softly rapped on the door, trying the knob again.

"Sam? Hey kiddo, unlock the door. It's Daniel. Will you let me in please?" Daniel called through the door, his anxiety growing steadily.

Daniel turned when he heard the other men reenter the cabin. Dean glanced at him quizzically. Suddenly realizing that Sam had been found, he hurried across the room.

"He's in there?" Dean asked as he reached Daniel. John, Bobby and Caleb stepped up behind Dean as Daniel answered.

"Yeah. Shower's running, but I can't get in. Door's locked. Something's wrong. I can hear something but I can't tell what."

"Kick it in," Dean said, preparing to barrel through the door.

"No Dean! That'll just scare him," Daniel cried.

"Well, we have to get in Dan!"

"Pick it Dean. Pick the lock," Daniel said.

"Shit! Yeah, okay."

Dean ran upstairs and returned a few minutes later. He kneeled in front of the door and had it unlocked in seconds. He carefully pushed the door open and peeked his head into the room. The other men crowded the door and they all waited for the steam that filled the room to dissapate. What they saw and finally heard broke their hearts.

Sam stood in the shower, stripped down to his boxers, his skin red and raw. He was scrubbing viciously over his body, blood mixing with soap and water where stitches had been pulled free. He was not aware of the audience he now had, didn't even appear to see the room around him. Dean and Daniel stepped forward, but stopped when Sam started speaking again.

"Dirty. So dirty. Have to get clean...Never be clean again. Always be dirty. No one will love me. Too dirty..." Sam chanted, his words trailing off to indistinguishable murmurs.

"Sammy? What're you doing kiddo?" Dean asked softly as he neared the tub.

Sam continued to scrub and murmur, unaware of anyone's presence. His eyes were red and puffy, his pupils dilated to the point that no color but black was visible. He moved to grab the soap and a collective gasp filled the room when he slipped, nearly tumbling from the tub. Dean reached out, grabbing his arm to stop his fall. Sam jerked back at the touch, pushing into the corner and sliding down the tiles until he sat, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around them. He shivered uncontrollably despite the scalding water and he dropped his head to his knees.

"Please...leave me alone. No more...please, no more," he pled, the words muffled but audible.

Dean kneeled beside the tub then reached over and shut off the water.

"Sam? Look at me. It's Dean. Nobody's going to hurt you again. We're all here and we won't let anything else happen to you," Dean said softly, wanting to reach in and pull Sam into his arms, but knowing that would only frighten his brother more.

Sam slowly lifted his head and looked out from beneath wet bangs, his eyes full of pain and despair. "D-Dean?" he whispered fearfully.

"Yeah kiddo. It's me. What are you doing in here?"

"I...I can't get clean. I can... I can still feel him on me. Still smell him. I'm dirty. I'll never be clean. Please don't look at me, I don't want you to see," Sam cried softly as tears spilled from his eyes.

"Oh Sammy. You're not dirty. He's gone and he's not coming back. Please, let me help you. Let us help you," Dean pled, reaching tentatively for his brother.

Sam cowered further back, his eyes widening in panic. "I'm garbage. I'm not worth anything. I deserved all of this. I deserve to die..."

"Don't say that! Don't you dare say that Sam!" Dean cried, causing the younger boy to jump.

"I'm sorry Dean, it's true though. This is my punishment. God is punishing me..."

"For what Sam? What do you need to be punished for?" Dean asked wearily.

"For being a bad son; a bad brother. For...for killing Mom..." Sam's chin dropped to his chest as sobs began to wrack his body.

The three older Winchesters exchanged pained glances as Daniel and John neared the tub. Bobby leaned against the doorframe, his head lowered and his heart heavy while Caleb turned away, his hands on his head, fingers entwined.

"Sammy, you are the best brother Dean and I could ever hope for," Daniel said softly as he sat on the edge of the tub. "And Dad couldn't ask for a better son."

"It's true Sam," John's gruff but soft voice said. "We may have our disagreements, but you've always been a wonderful son."

Sam looked at his family, his eyes settling on John. "What about Mom? She's gone because of me. It's my fault she's dead."

"No Sam. Nothing is your fault. Not your mom's death, not Wilcox. Now I know we haven't talked about your letter yet, but I can tell you this. In no way are you responsible for what happened to your mom. Whomever did that to her, whether they were after you or not, is responsible. Not you son."

"But God must think so Dad. That's why He let Wilcox hurt me. It's my punishment. Now...I can't wash him away. I'll always be dirty...I'll always be unworthy of anyone's love."

"Oh Sam. God didn't send Wilcox to punish you. You have nothing to be punished for. You are not dirty and you are more worthy of love than anybody," Daniel said softly.

Sam shook his head and slowly stood. He started once again to scrub with the cloth he still held. His tears continued to fall as he scrubbed harder and harder. He looked up at his distraught family sadly.

"I'll never be clean. I can still feel him. Always dirty...never clean," Sam murmured. "Please don't hate me. I'm sorry...so sorry."

Dean climbed into the tub and grasped Sam's wrist, stopping the scrubbing. Sam pulled back, trying to get as far away from Dean as possible. Dean gently pulled Sam to him, wrapping his arms around his trembling brother. Sam tensed, fighting to get away but soon the fighting stopped and Sam relaxed into his brother's embrace, burying his face into the crook of Dean's neck. Dean whispered softly to his baby brother as he carefully maneuvered him out of the tub and into the waiting arms of Daniel.

"We could never hate you Sam," Daniel whispered as he embraced the shivering teenager. "You're everything to us kiddo. Don't you know that? Don't you know how much we need you?"

Sam gazed up at his oldest brother, disbelief in his eyes. Daniel smiled warmly as he took the towel John offered him. He began to dry Sam, gently pushing him down to sit on the toilet lid. John kneeled down, examining Sam's wounds.

"Well Sammy," he said softly. "Looks like you pulled a few stitches. We'll just fix that up and get you bandaged again, then it's time for your meds and back to bed."

Sam peered at John, smiling timidly when he saw no anger in his father's eyes.

"Sorry Dad," he muffled, lowering his eyes.

John reached his fingers beneath Sam's chin and gently raised his face up. He smiled reassuringly at his youngest.

"Sam, you have nothing to be sorry for. You are my son and I love you more than life. You mean the world to me and I promise we are going to get through this. Together."

Sam stared at his father then suddenly lunged forward, wrapping his arms around John's back. He laid his head on John's shoulder and wept. John wrapped his arms around his son, resting his cheek on Sam's head, breathing in the scent of his hair. A single tear trickled down John's cheek as he pulled his baby closer to him. He vowed to himself and to his beloved Mary that he would do whatever it took to get his enthusiastic, vibrant and brilliant son back. Wilcox would not win. Sam would not be ruined. Not if John Winchester had anything to say about it.

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**That's it for now. I'll probably only post one chapter per day for now...at least until the weekend. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.**

**Cindy.**


	30. Chapter 30

**This is a rather short chapter. I'll be posting another later tonight to make up for it. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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**Five Days Later-Phoenix Regional Medical Center**

"Have a safe trip John, and take care of Sam," Dr. Drake said, shaking John's hand firmly.

"Thanks doc. And don't worry, between me and the boys, Sam's not going to have any privacy. Too much has happened for us to let him out of our sight for even a second," John replied, a small smile playing over his lips.

"So...it really was Michael Wilcox? He...came back? And monsters do exist and you and your family hunt them?" Dr. Drake asked, bewilderment in his eyes.

"Yep. Sorry to say, but it's true. That bastard had my boy again. It was Wilcox, without a doubt."

"This is just too much. Child rapists coming back from the dead?" Dr. Drake mumbled as he shook his head.

"I know, but at least no one has to worry about him anymore," John stated.

Dr. Drake nodded, then turned when Sam was wheeled up to the two men, his big brother Dean pushing the wheelchair. Daniel walked alongside the chair with Bobby, Caleb and Pastor Jim Murphy trailing behind. Pastor Jim had flown in at John's request, his ability to talk to and council Sam well proven. Sam peered up at the doctor, his sad and haunted eyes causing a lump to form in Dr. Drakes throat. He kneeled down, careful not to touch Sam unless the boy was well aware that it was going to happen. He smiled warmly, gingerly patting Sam's knee.

"You take care of yourself Sam. And take care of your family too. They really need you to watch out for them," the doctor said softly, his heart aching for the traumatized boy.

Sam smiled warmly and said softly, "Thank you Dr. Drake. For everything."

Dr. Drake nodded then rose, shaking the other men's hands then watched as they slowly walked away. The doctor remembered back on the past several days starting with John rushing into the hospital, a hurt and sick Sam cradled in his arms. The rush to surgery to repair the stab wound in Sam's leg. The fight to bring down his fever caused by yet another infection, this one from not only the stab wound, but the ugly cut down his chest as well. The fear of whether any blood borne diseases had been passed from Wilcox to Sam. A look at Wilcox's file had revealed no diseases had come up during routine blood work, but a full work up was done on Sam just to be sure. It had been frightening but four days after the Winchesters had returned to the hospital, they were once again leaving, intent on getting Sam home.

Dr. Drake sighed and turned to walk down the hall in the opposite direction of the Winchesters, his eyes lifting to the ceiling. "Watch over him. Keep him safe. Please," he prayed before starting on his daily rounds.

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John, Bobby and Pastor Jim walked out into the bright sunshine, followed by the four younger hunters, the youngest slumped slightly in his wheelchair, his chin resting on his chest. The group halted at the curb, the older men surrounding the wheelchair bound boy protectively. John was the first to speak.

"Bobby, thank you so much for everything," he said, shaking Bobby's hand then clapping him on the shoulder.

"No thanks are necessary, ya know that John. Ya'll are family. I'm just glad it all worked out," Bobby replied as he glanced at Sam, who had lifted his head, his squinting eyes gazing up at the grizzled hunter.

Bobby winked affectionately at Sam, then stepped off the curb, turning toward the men again. "You coming Jim?" he asked the holy man.

"I'll be right there Bobby," Jim replied, then kneeled before Sam, his kind eyes resting on Sam's tired face.

"You take care of yourself young man. Don't forget to call me every day. There's a lot we still need to talk about Sam," the older man said quietly, then reached his hand around the back of Sam's neck and squeezed gently.

Pastor Jim stood then shook hands with the remaining men before following Bobby across the parking lot to the truck Bobby had rented for the drive home. Bobby would drop Jim at the airport before heading north to his junkyard. As much as he wanted to accompany the Winchesters back to Santa Cruz, he had left his home and other responsibilities neglected for long enough. Caleb however would be going to Santa Cruz as he was not quite ready to leave his surrogate family. He knew that John and the two older brothers were perfectly capable of taking care of Sam, but he just couldn't let go yet.

Caleb headed for his SUV as John went to retrieve the Impala. They both pulled up to the entrance of the hospital at the same time. The men exited their vehicles and stepped back up to the three brothers.

"Hey kiddo, you ready to head home?" Caleb asked as he bent over in front of Sam, his hand resting on Sam's forearm.

"Any where is better than here," Sam said softly, flashing a warm smile.

"I hear ya buddy," Caleb chuckled as he stood.

Daniel moved to the Impala and opened the rear passenger door while Dean helped Sam to stand. Caleb pulled the wheelchair away as Dean steadied Sam, who limped his way slowly to the car. John looked on as Dean helped to lower Sam into the car. Daniel hurried to the other door and climbed in beside Sam, who scooted to his brother's side and leaned warily into him. Dean nodded to Caleb then climbed into the front passenger seat, closing the door noisily behind him.

"Ready to head out Caleb?" John asked his friend as he walked to the drivers door that remained open.

"I'm right behind you John," Caleb answered, climbing into his SUV.

John nodded, then slid behind the wheel. He turned to his sons in the backseat and smiled, then glanced at Dean beside him.

"Let's go home boys," he said then pulled away from the curb, Caleb following behind.

They traveled the streets of Phoenix until they came to the on ramp for the highway that would take them west to Santa Cruz where their current home awaited them.

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**That's it for now. Next chapter will be up later tonight. This one was kind of boring, but maybe we needed a something a little slow after the last few chapters. Please review!**

**Cindy.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Okay, I promised another chapter and here it is. Just another quiet chapter before things pick up again. There are some sweet moments, sad moments and a-ha moments. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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**Three Weeks Later-Santa Cruz**

Life in the Winchester home had been anything but routine since the family had returned from Phoenix. Sam continued to have nightmares of his ordeal, although they were becoming less frequent and violent. He'd had a few panic attacks that had scared his family nearly to death, but hadn't had one in over a week. He was even venturing outside without one of his brothers, John or Caleb at his side, although the porch was as far as he would go on his own.

Sam continued his daily phone conversations with Pastor Jim, the talks working wonders on his fragile state of mind. His family stood beside him, offering their love and strength and slowly Sam was losing the ideas that he was unworthy of love and acceptance. He was beginning to believe that he wasn't dirty and that he wasn't someone to be pitied, but that he was strong and worthy of the Winchester name.

Sam sat on his bed, propped against the headboard and reading when Dean entered their room one evening. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the blanket and not looking at Sam, obviously nervous. Sam watched his brother for a moment before curiosity got the best of him.

"Dean? What's going on?" he inquired of his silent sibling.

Dean looked sideways at Sam, then reached his hand out, passing something to Sam who took it, his eyes widening when he saw what he was holding.

"My picture with Mom! You found it Dean! I thought I had lost it for good," Sam exclaimed happily as he gazed at the worn photo.

"You didn't lose it Sam," Dean said softly.

"What? What do you mean?" Sam asked with confusion.

"You didn't lose the picture. I took it. I was pissed and I took it to punish you," Dean replied, self loathing in his voice.

"You took it? Why?"

"Rose broke up with me and I blamed you. I wanted to teach you a lesson." Dean lowered his eyes, shame not allowing him to look at his brother.

"Is that why you hated me? Because I caused Rose to break up with you?" Sam asked timidly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"No Sam! I never hated you," Dean said, his eyes burning.

"I'm sorry Dean. I know I messed up a lot of things for you guys," Sam said sadly.

"Sam, that's just it. You haven't messed anything up. It's us who've messed up with you. It wasn't your fault that Rose dumped me. I just needed someone to blame and I didn't want to blame myself..."

"I messed things up with Mom. She's gone and that IS my fault..." Sam started before Dean interrupted him.

"Okay, I've just about had it with that!" Dean spat angrily.

"But, Dean..." Sam said, his voice hitching at Dean's outburst.

"But nothing, Sam. Your letter said you felt it was your fault Mom died. Why do you think that?" Dean asked warily.

"Because...I...uh...I've been having this dream...about that night," Sam started.

"And..." Dean coaxed.

"The yellow-eyed man said he was there for me..."

"The yellow-eyed man?"

"He's the one who killed Mom. He was in my nursery...doing something to me. Mom came in and he killed her. He put her on the ceiling and she bled...she bled from her stomach. Then he burned her." Sam dropped his head, tears welling in his eyes.

Dean's breath hitched at what Sam had revealed. They had never told Sam the complete story of what had happened to Mary, yet here he was dreaming it in exact detail. Dean reached out his hand and lifted Sam's face to meet his.

"And this yellow-eyed man was there for you? How can you be sure?"

"Because, he whispered to me. He told me I was one of the special children and that I was his. Then he cut himself and he...he dripped blood into my mouth," Sam said softly as the tears spilled from his eyes.

Dean pulled Sam into his arms and whispered softly into his ear. "Don't worry Sam. We'll figure this out. Dad'll know what to do. Whoever this yellow-eyed man is, well he can't have you. We won't let him have you!"

"But...what if he tries to hurt you like he did Mom? I don't want you guys hurt because of me...I'm not worth it," Sam started, his voice panicky.

Dean pulled back and took Sam's face in his hands. "You are worth everything, Sam! Mom's death was not your fault. It was this yellow-eyed man. And if he thinks he can take you away from us, he has made a huge mistake. You are a Winchester and nobody messes with the Winchesters. Especially not with you!"

Sam smiled sadly and leaned into his brother's arms again. "Thanks Dean," he murmured.

Dean held Sam for a few moments then pulled away. He smiled at his brother then stood up from the bed. He reached out his hand and helped Sam to his feet.

"Come on kiddo, dinner's almost ready. Don't worry Sam, everything will be okay," Dean said, his own worry threatening to overtake him.

The two brothers walked to the kitchen, each lost in their own thoughts. Sam stopped when his cell phone rang. He answered it, his face lighting up a bit when he realized who was on the other end. He gave Dean a look before turning and walking slowly to the livingroom. Dean arched his brows and walked to the table, sitting heavily in a chair. John turned at the sound and smirked at his distracted son.

"Where's Sam? Dinner's ready," John said as Daniel came through the back door with Caleb, both men taking a seat.

"He has a phone call. He'll be right in," Dean explained.

"What's wrong Dean? You look...troubled," Caleb asked the young hunter.

"Uh...I just had a talk with Sam. I asked him why he thinks he's to blame for Mom," Dean replied.

John turned and gazed at his son. "What did he say?" he asked.

"He said he's been having the same dream where a man with yellow eyes is standing over his crib telling him he's one of the special children and that he belongs to him. He cuts himself and drips the blood into Sam's mouth. Mom comes in and the man sends her to the ceiling and then her stomach starts to bleed. Then he burns her," Dean answers with trepidation.

John stood, eyes wide with shock, unable to move. He glanced between his sons and Caleb, not able to utter a word.

"How does he know how Mom died? We've never told him," Daniel finally said.

"I don't know, but if this yellow-eyed man really is who killed Mom, and the rest of Sam's dream is real, then our little brother is in some deep shit," Dean replied.

"I'll call Bobby and see if he has any ideas on who this yellow-eyed man may be. This may be our first big clue on finding and killing whatever is responsible for taking your mother from us," John said once he found his voice.

"Dad, Sammy's safety comes first. He needs to know that we are hunting this...whatever, as much to protect him as we are to avenge Mom," Dean said, peering intently at his father.

"I know that Dean. Sammy comes first. Always. But we can kill two birds here. Protect Sam and avenge Mary," John replied.

The men suddenly quieted when they heard Sam coming from the livingroom. Sam limped into the room and sat at the table, his face flushed. He squirmed under the other men's scrutiny. He looked up from the table, his face reddening further.

"What?" he asked sheepishly.

"Uh...Dean told us about your dream Sam," Daniel said.

"Oh. I...uh...," Sam stammered.

"Sam, whatever it means, we'll deal with it. I just want you to understand that in no way are you responsible or to blame for what happened when you were a baby. You need to stop blaming yourself. We don't blame you," John stated as he set dinner on the table.

Sam smiled softly, then lowered his eyes.

"So...who was on the phone?" Caleb asked.

Sam raised his eyes, his cheeks flushing further. "Um...Alisa Chambers," he answered coyly.

"Alisa huh? What did she want?" Dean asked, a devilish grin on his face.

"She...she asked me to...uh...to go out with her tomorrow night," Sam replied, then grabbed a drumstick and began to eat.

"What? Like on a date?" Daniel asked amusedly.

"She just wants to meet at the mall. Maybe see a movie...that's all," Sam replied.

"So...you gonna go kiddo?" Caleb asked.

"I don't know. I told her I'd have to get back to her," Sam said softly.

"Sam, you can go if you want. It's okay with me," John said.

"It's not that. I just don't know if I'm ready. I mean...I...I just don't know," Sam whispered.

"Sammy, you'll be fine. Me and Daniel can hang out just in case you need us. Out of sight of course," Dean stated.

"I guess it'll be okay. It's just the mall," Sam said.

"Yeah...you should go Sam. I mean...this is Alisa Chambers for petes sake," Daniel said happily.

"Yeah, okay. I'll call her later."

"Your first date! You sly dog," Dean quipped, grinning from ear to ear.

"Dean! Quit teasing your brother," John said through a huge smile.

The family ate, small talk making the rounds at the table. Later, the date was set up and all of the older men sat around, giddy with excitement for the youngest Winchester. Maybe this was just what he needed to get him over the hump and back on his way to becoming the old Sam.

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**So? I hope you all enjoyed that. It will pick up again, I promise.**

**Cindy.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Okay, here is the next chapter. The start of Sam's date. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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The sleek black car moved through the streets of Santa Cruz with a purpose. Sam sat silently pressed up against the rear passenger side door, a look of nervousness and mortification on his tense face. Daniel sat next to him and Caleb was next to the driver's side passenger door. Dean drove and John rode shotgun. Dean glanced over his shoulder, a devilish grin on his handsome face.

"Why so quiet Sammy?" he quipped, holding in a chuckle.

Sam turned his eyes to his brother, pursing his lips. He looked like he might be sick.

"D-did you all have to come?" Sam asked sheepishly, eliciting a slight chuckle from Caleb.

"We're just excited for you Sam. Besides, we want to see what all the hoopla is about. I mean, all we heard about was Alisa this and Alisa that. We want to see what kind of taste our little brother has," Daniel remarked, his grin widening.

"You're all going to embarrass me aren't you?" Sam asked warily.

Dean placed his hand over his heart, feigning a hurt expression. "Sammy, that really hurts. We are here merely to support you. The fact that you think we want to embarrass you is just...I can't even speak right now...sorry."

Dean turned his head away, his shoulders shaking as he let out a mock sob. John shook his head then reached across the seat and smacked his middle son on the back of the head.

"Leave your brother alone," he cautioned, turning and glaring at Daniel and Caleb when they couldn't control their chuckles any longer.

"Just...just take me home. I don't want to do this," Sam muffled as he slouched down in his seat.

"No Sam! Hey, we're sorry kiddo. We're just having a little fun," Daniel said, turning to look at his baby brother.

"Yeah Sammy. We won't embarrass you. Promise," Dean said, glancing back to this brother.

"I don't think I can do this. Let's just go. Please?" Sam pled, his heart racing in his chest.

"Sam, you'll be fine. You can't stand a girl up. That would be rude," Daniel said as he gave Sam an encouraging wink.

"Daniel's right Sam. You'll be fine, and Alisa is already waiting for you," John said.

"Fine. I'll go, but please just don't..."

"We won't embarrass you Sam. We already said we wouldn't," Dean said.

The occupants of the car fell silent for the rest of the ride and soon the Impala pulled up to the curb at the mall entrance. A group of teenaged girls stood huddled around a bench, their giggles reaching the men in the car. One girl turned, smiling when she saw the boy in the backseat. She started for the car, her dark curls bouncing with each step.

"Is that her?" Daniel whispered as he nudged Sam's arm.

Sam nodded lightly as he continued to watch the girl as she neared the car.

"Damn Sam! She's totally...uh...damn!" Dean exclaimed as he opened the door and exited the car.

The other men followed suit and waited for Sam to do the same. Sam opened his door and slowly climbed from the car, moving to stand next to his father. Alisa walked straight up to Sam, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. She stepped back and smiled as Sam bashfully lowered his head.

"Sam? Are you going to introduce me?" Alisa asked the blushing teenager.

Sam looked up, glancing over his shoulder at his family.

"Oh...uh...yeah, sorry. This is my dad, John," he said, indicating the man beside him.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Winchester," Alisa said sweetly, reaching out and softly shaking John's hand.

"It's very nice to meet you too Alisa," John replied.

Sam pointed to each of the other men, introducing them each to Alisa.

"That's Dean, and Daniel. My brothers," he said and each nodded. "And that's my uncle, Caleb." Caleb smiled and winked at the girl.

"It's nice to meet all of you."

"Um...I guess we should go inside?" Sam said as he stepped away from the car.

"Oh. Okay, I guess we should." Alisa grabbed onto Sam's arm as he turned to his family.

"Call when you're ready Sam," Dean said through a wide smile.

Sam nodded, then turned and walked toward the mall entrance with Alisa attached firmly to this arm. The Winchesters and Caleb watched the two teenagers enter the mall, disappearing into the building. The group of girls eyed the men, giggling when both Dean and Daniel winked at them. They hurried to the doors and entered the mall, glancing over their shoulders for one more look at the amused hunters.

The men looked at each other, shaking their heads and chuckling before they all climbed back into the Impala. They sat for several minutes, Dean yet to start the car.

"Uh...what are we doing Dean?" Daniel asked from the backseat.

Dean looked around, nervously gazing past John to the entrance doors of the mall.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Dean asked, turning his eyes onto his dad.

"He'll be fine. There are a lot of people around. Don't worry," John said, not succeeding in hiding his own concern.

"Yeah Dad, like you aren't worried," Daniel quipped, then glanced across to Caleb.

"Okay, I think we've established that we're all a little nervous. So, what are we gonna do about it?" Caleb asked.

"We could hang out here. Sam doesn't have to know or anything," Dean suggested.

"Yeah. That isn't creepy or anything. Four grown men hanging out at the mall on Friday night," Daniel chirped, shaking his head.

"We could go wait at the diner down the street," Caleb started.

"We're going home. We need to give Sam some space. He needs to learn how to be independent again," John said then arched his eyebrows at Dean when his son still didn't start the car.

Dean rolled his eyes then reached forward and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life and Dean peeled out of the parking lot. The men became quiet, lost in their own thoughts. They knew they had to let Sam go or he would become more and more dependent on them. But relinquishing any bit of hold they had over him was going to be extremely difficult. They were all on edge whenever Sam was out of their sight, and now they were leaving him where they would be miles away and unable to quickly help if anything happened.

When they finally reached their small rental house, the four men exited the car, practically dragging their feet as they slowly made their way into the abode. They each sank down into seats around the livingroom, nervously glancing at each other.

"So, what do we do now?" Daniel asked furtively.

"We wait," Dean answered as he sank back onto the sofa.

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**You know, I'm really beginning to have cliffie withdrawls. How many chapters have we had with no action or cliffies? I guess I'll have to post another chapter in the hopes we get one or the other....or both! Please review.**

**Cindy.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Well, there has just been too many evil free chapters. I mean, what's up with that? Here is the next one. I was going to wait awhile to post, but I want to get it out before the new episode 'cause, I may forget if I wait. Okay, yeah...I'm weird...so sue me! **

**Cindy.**

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Sam and Alisa entered the mall, walking into a large atrium. They stopped and glanced around for a moment. Sam noticed the group of girls that Alisa had been with earlier enter behind them. The girls walked a ways away then stopped, glancing over at the couple, then they whispered amongst themselves before breaking out in yet another round of giggles. Sam blushed and rolled his eyes.

"What's up with your friends?" Sam asked softly.

"Oh, they're just jealous. They all have crushes on you, you know," Alisa replied amusedly.

"No they don't! Do they?" Sam asked, the red in his face deepening.

"Oh yeah. But you're with me, so don't get any ideas mister," Alisa said before chuckling to herself.

"What? Oh, no I wouldn't..." Sam stammered.

"Sam...I'm just kidding," Alisa said, turning the boy to face her, then gasping at what she saw.

"Oh Sam! What happened?" she cried as she lifted her hand and gently touched first Sam's healing lip, then his cheek.

Sam pulled away slightly and lowered his head. "Uh...I...I was in a car accident," Sam muffled softly.

"Oh my God! I never heard about it. When did it happen?" Alisa exclaimed as she pulled Sam over and gently pushed him onto a bench.

"Uh...actually it was in Arizona over a month ago," Sam replied uncomfortably.

"Arizona? What were you doing in Arizona?"

"I...I kinda ran away from home. This guy picked me up, we drove for a while then we crashed," Sam stated.

"You ran away? Was that why you didn't come back to school?"

"Yeah. I left right after I talked to you actually."

"Wow. Why did you run away?"

"Um...I...it's a little..."

"I'm sorry. Not my business. I'm just glad you're back and that you're okay Sam."

"Thanks. Uh...so what do you want to do?"

"Oh. Um...are you hungry? We could eat something then see a movie if you want."

"Yeah, I am kinda hungry. What do you want?"

"Oh, I don't know. How about pizza?"

"Pizza's good. Shall we?" Sam asked as he stood then took Alisa's hand and helped her to her feet.

The two teenagers ordered their pizza and talked as they waited, Sam even chuckling a bit at Alisa's jokes. Once they finished their food, they left the food court and walked, hand in hand toward the movie theater.

"So, what do you want to see?" Sam asked as they stood in front of the movie posters outside of the theater.

"Uh...I don't know. What do you want to see?" Alisa replied, wrapping her arm around Sam's thin waist.

Sam leaned closer into Alisa, wrapping his own arm around her. "How about Big Daddy? I heard it's funny."

"That's the one with Adam Sandler, right?"

"Yeah. We can see something else if you like."

"No, that's fine. I like Adam Sandler," Alisa remarked.

Sam bought the tickets and once they had popcorn and soda, the teenagers made their way to the proper theater and found seats in the back row. They settled in and talked about nothing in particular, waiting for the movie to start.

"I hope you don't mind sitting in the back row," Sam said, turning to Alisa.

"No, I don't mind at all," Alisa replied, resting her head on Sam's shoulder.

Sam really didn't like sitting in the back, but the thought of someone behind him in the dark made him break out in a cold sweat and caused his breathing to hitch. Just thinking about sitting in the dark anyway left him breathless. He took several deep breaths then placed his arm around Alisa's shoulders and settled further into his seat as the lights went down. The two leaned in closer together as the movie started.

Sam breathed in the floral scent of Alisa's hair and thought that this just might be what heaven felt like. He forgot completely about the movie, not really seeing what was playing on the screen. He closed his eyes, completely content to sit with his arm around the prettiest girl he had ever seen, letting the scent of her shampoo take him away from the darkness that had engulfed his life.

They were halfway through the movie when Alisa sat up and turned toward Sam. She reached her hand up, gently cupping Sam's face, her thumb softly rubbing over the scar on his cheek. She pulled his face to hers and softly brushed her lips against his, then leaned in further and kissed him sweetly. Sam sat up and placed his hand on the back of her head, threading his fingers through her silky hair. He pulled her to him and the kiss grew deeper.

_'Oh God! She tastes so sweet!'_ Sam thought and a shiver ran through him. He moaned softly and pulled away, gazing into the wide blue eyes that stared back at him. Alisa smiled and Sam nearly passed out. "Sam?" Alisa whispered, and Sam pulled her in again, the kiss even deeper this time. His hand moved down her back and he felt her tremble under his touch. Alisa moved her hand to Sam's chest and Sam gasped at the touch. She slid her hand down and pulled his shirt from his jeans. She ran her hand under his shirt, her fingers caressing his sensitive skin, raising goosebumps. She moved up his chest and then something changed in Sam.

Suddenly, instead of feeling like he was floating on clouds, Sam felt like he was sinking in quicksand. Sam pushed away from Alisa, his breathing bordering on hyperventilating. His eyes widened, panic flashing through them.

"Sam? What's wrong?" Alisa whispered fearfully, reaching for Sam.

Sam whimpered and pulled away further. "I...I can't...oh God...I'm sorry," Sam cried softly as he jumped from his seat and began to back away from the confused girl.

"Sam? What did I do? Are you okay?" Alisa asked, moving forward and grabbing Sam's arm.

Sam jerked his arm away as if burned, a tortured moan escaping him.

"Please...don't. I can't...please, just...don't touch me." Sam stumbled backward, not hearing the shushing noises coming from several patrons.

"Sam, please tell me what's wrong!" Alisa cried, not caring about the nasty glares she received.

"I'm what's wrong! It's me...please...I'm sorry...I have to go!" Sam rasped then turned and hurried down the steps and out of the theater, leaving a bewildered Alisa staring after him.

Sam pushed through the theater entrance and out into the dark night. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he ran across the parking lot, his breath hitching in broken sobs. He continued to run, not noticing where he ran to, just feeling like he had to get away. After what seemed like forever, Sam slowed his pace, his limp returning with the extra exertion he had placed on his still healing leg.

Sam found himself in a small park and he dropped exhausted to the grass, wheezing as his deprived lungs struggled to provide the necessary oxygen to his body. Sam closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow it's frantic pace. Once he could breathe more easily, he sat up and looked around, feeling extremely vulnerable in the open park. He spied a gazebo and stood shakily, then made his way slowly to the structure. He climbed the three steps and stood in the center of the small enclosure. Sam limped to the bench against the wall and crawled beneath it, seeking the cover it provided. He curled into himself, crying softly as he remembered the feel of Wilcox's hands on his body, and how Alisa's touch brought back those dreaded memories.

Sam lay on the cold concrete floor of the gazebo, his cries lessening as exhaustion overtook him. He pulled himself from under the bench then sat down upon it. Just as he was about to stand and head back in the direction that he thought the mall was, he spied a man standing across the park, not moving and his head bent slightly to his chest. Sam watched warily as the man lifted his head, his glowing yellow eyes staring straight into Sam's soul.

Sam jerked back, his heart jumping in his chest. This was the man from his nightmares! He blinked his eyes, hoping that in his current state he was just imagining the man. But the man did not disappear. He just stood there, his eyes burning into Sam, a shiver inducing grin on his face. Sam shakily reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He punched in a number and waited for the call to be answered. When the line was picked up, Sam cried tearfully into the phone.

"D-Dean? I...need you. The yellow-eyed man. He's here..."

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**Phew....I feel much better now! Sam...danger...heaven!!!! Please review.**

**Cindy.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Well, this is an extremely short chapter, but there will be another later tonight. Enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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"Hey Sammy, done already?" Dean quipped amusedly as he answered his phone.

_"D-Dean? I need you. The yellow-eyed man. He's here..."_ came Sam's fear filled voice over the line.

"What! Sam, where are you?" Dean cried as he stood abruptly from the sofa.

Alarmed, the other three men rose, their questioning eyes riveted on Dean.

_"I...I don't know...I..."_ Sam stammered.

"You don't know? Why aren't you at the mall?"

_"Uh...I can't explain now. Just get here...please?"_

"Where is here Sam?" Dean shouted as he and the others rushed to the Impala.

_"I'm at a park...about a half mile from the mall. Please Dean...hurry!"_

"What direction from the mall Sam?" Dean asked in a near panic, the Impala tearing down the street, John at the wheel.

_"I...uh...I left out of the theater entrance. Dean! He's coming closer!"_ Sam cried urgently, his voice filled with terror.

"It's okay Sam! Can you run somewhere?"

_"There's nowhere to go! Oh my God! What does he want with me!?"_

"Sam...calm down. We're on our way. Just try and stay away from him."

_"Dean! I don't th..."_ the last frantic word cut off abruptly.

"Sam! Sammy, answer me!" Dean screamed.

The only answer Dean received was static as he screamed frantically into the phone. Daniel reached up from the backseat and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Dean. What's going on? Where's Sammy?" he asked fearfully.

"He's in a park a half mile from the mall. He says the yellow-eyed man is there!" Dean cried.

"What!? Is he okay? Why is he at a park?" John spat, his heart now hammering in his chest.

"I don't know! His phone cut off. Shit!!!"

"It's okay Dean. We'll find him. He'll be fine," Caleb said softly from the backseat.

"How do you know that? This is the man...the thing that killed my mom! Now he's after Sammy!"

"Dean, we'll find him. You need to calm down," John said, glancing across the seat.

Dean took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow down. "Okay. Okay, I'm sorry."

"Which way is he from the mall?" John asked, his calm voice masking the panic he felt.

"Um...he said he left from the theater entrance," Dean answered, his voice shaky.

"Okay, now we know which direction to head first. We'll find him," John said, his heart pounding furiously.

"Dad, we just got him back. We can't lose him again. Not to what took Mom."

"We won't Dean. We won't," Daniel said softly.

The men fell silent as they headed toward the mall. Once they reached the mall, they drove around until they found the theater entrance. They took the street that headed away from the entrance, all four pairs of eyes scanning for any sign of Sam. They drove about seven or eight blocks when the park opened up ahead of them. John slammed on the brakes as the four shocked men stared across the park. Dean swung his door open and jumped from the car, not even allowing it to come to a stop. He took off at a sprint, his heart in his throat and a scream on his lips.

"SAMMY!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

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**Um....is this considered a cliffie? LOL Hey, what can I say....Please review. More later.**

**Cindy.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Here is the next chapter as promised. I hope you enjoy.**

**Cindy.**

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_"SAMMY! NOOOOO!!"_

Dean ripped across the grass, his hand reaching to his back, gripping his ever present Glock in his fingers. He didn't quite understand what was happening. All he did know was that Sam was pressed up against the outside wall of a gazebo, his arms stretched out to his sides, his feet somehow were six inches off the ground. But even more alarming was the tall man, dressed completely in black that stood before him, his hands pressed over Sam's cheeks. His Sammy's face. And although Dean was on the far side of the park, he couldn't miss the look of pure terror on his baby brother's face.

"Get your hands off him you son of a bitch!!!" Dean screamed as he aimed his gun at the man's head.

The man turned, a sly grin on his face. Dean gasped when he saw the glowing yellow eyes that Sam had described from his dream. The man pulled his hands away from Sam who then dropped heavily to the ground. The man pointed toward Dean and suddenly Dean's gun flew one way and Dean flew the other way, landing hard on his back, knocking the wind out of him. John, Daniel and Caleb had been pulling weapons from the trunk of the Impala and saw what happened. They tore off toward the two brothers at the same time the yellow-eyed man started to walk toward Dean.

Before the three could reach Dean, the man glanced their way, stopping them dead in their tracks. As hard as they tried, they could not move. The man smiled and continued toward Dean.

"Now, why would you want to do that Dean? Sammy and I were just having a friendly little discussion," the man hissed as he stood over the winded hunter.

"Nothing about what I saw looked friendly. And don't call him that! Only his family can call him that," Dean spat out breathlessly.

"But I am his family. You all are imposters," yellow-eyes stated, sweeping his hand toward the other men.

"You are not his family!" Dean shouted.

"Sammy belongs to me and none of you can stop me when I decide to take him," yellow-eyes sneered, glancing over the rage filled faces that glared at him.

"You will not take my son you son of a bitch!" John seethed.

"Ah, the mighty John Winchester. So, now you choose to care about Sam? Where were you when Michael Wilcox was having his way with him?"

"Shut up! You don't know anything!" Daniel spat venomously.

"Oh Daniel, always there to defend. Problem is, you failed Sam also. You all call yourselves his family, but why was he even out there to be preyed upon? I know more than you think. I know what you said to him, and I know how you treat him."

"We love Sam. We've made mistakes you bastard, but we love him and we're not letting you or anyone else hurt him!" Dean screamed from his place on the grass.

"No. You all do such a good job of hurting him already. You don't need me to do it," yellow-eyes taunted as he once again stepped toward Dean.

Suddenly, he was thrust sideways as Sam plowed into him, screaming in fury.

"Stay away from my brother!" Sam spat, placing himself between the yellow-eyed man and the other men.

"Why do you defend them Sammy? They don't care about you. You're a disappointment to them. You'll never measure up in John's eyes," yellow-eyes said cruelly.

"Don't talk to him! Sammy, don't you listen to him. We care about you! We love you," Dean said, still unable to move from the ground.

"I tire of you all. I am here to speak to Sammy," yellow-eyes stated then waved his hand.

As the others tried to protest, they found they could no longer speak. Sam's eyes darted to his loved ones and anger flared when he realized the influence yellow-eyes had over all of them.

"What did you do? Leave them alone you bastard!" Sam spat out.

Yellow-eyes' hand shot out, grabbing Sam by the throat and lifting him from the ground. He pulled the kicking boy to him, his face inches away from Sam's.

"Respect Sam. You need to learn some respect," yellow-eyes spat, his glowing eyes filled with fury.

"Y-you...killed my mom..." Sam sputtered, his fingers digging into the man's arms.

"Ah, well. That was...unfortunate, but...what can I say. She interrupted us."

Sam's eyes widened, his anger building. "She interrupted us!? She was my mother! I was six months old. What could you possibly want with a baby?" Sam cried, still struggling with the hand around his throat.

"You're one of my special children Sam. I was there to...check up on you."

"You fed your blood to me! Why did you do that?"

"That...was step one."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked, glancing at his struggling family.

"You don't need to know the details Sammy. Just know that you are mine and I can take you whenever I want. And your so called family? They won't be able to stop me."

Sam lashed out, catching the man on the jaw with his fist, taking him by surprise. Yellow-eyes squeezed Sam's throat painfully, then flung him away, laughing as Sam hit the ground. He strode up to the sprawled boy, bending over him.

"Remember Sammy, you are nothing to them. They are only pretending to care. You will always be on the outside looking in. With me, you'll always know where you stand."

Yellow-eyes laughed as he stepped over Sam, strolling across the park and disappearing into the night. Once he had disappeared, the invisible hold he had on the four hunters fell away. Dean quickly pushed himself to his feet, his upper back aching where it had connected with the ground. He rushed to Sam, who still lay sprawled on the grass. Dean dropped to his knees, gazing into Sam's wide eyes.

"You okay kiddo?" Dean asked as he reached down, sliding his hand under Sam's neck.

"I-I'm fine..." Sam muffled.

Dean gently lifted Sam's head, aware suddenly of the other men behind him. He held Sam in a seated position as he surveyed him for any injuries, sighing with relief when all he found were slight bruises forming under Sam's jawline. Dean stood, bringing Sam slowly with him. Both brothers turned their eyes on the other men. Daniel stepped forward and gently moved Sam's head, eyeing the bruises left by yellow-eyes' fingers.

"Does that hurt Sammy?" he asked worriedly.

"N-no...not much," Sam replied.

All three brothers turned their attention to John, who had yet to move, let alone speak. Sam took a tentative step forward, his wary eyes never leaving John's face.

"Dad?" he murmured timidly.

John's eyes hardened somewhat and Sam flinched at the anger he saw in their depths.

"What the hell were you thinking Samuel!? Of all the stupid things you've done, this ranks right up there with intentionally getting into Michael Wilcox's car! I thought you were smart. I guess I was wrong," John spat angrily.

Sam reeled as if physically struck, his hurt eyes immediately tearing up.

"Dad! What are you doing?" Dean cried, coming to Sam's side. Daniel stood back, his mouth open in shock.

"Stay out of this Dean. This is between Sam and me!" John shot. Dean pursed his lips, glancing sideways at his trembling brother.

"I-I'm sorry Dad. I..." Sam started.

"Sorry doesn't cut it boy! You're always sorry. Now, I want to know what you were doing out here, alone, when we dropped you off at the mall!"

Sam remained quiet, his eyes dropping to his feet. Inside, John was reeling with fear and guilt. He had been so terrified when he had seen his baby in the hands of his wife's murderer, and the knowledge that Sam never should have been out here alone had nearly pushed him over the edge. Unfortunately for Sam, John's fear came out as anger and once he was on a roll, he found it hard to stop himself.

"I asked you a question Samuel! First you endanger yourself with Wilcox and now this! Do you have a deathwish? Is that it Sam? Do you want to die? Do you enjoy putting your family through hell like this!?"

"Dad, stop it!" Daniel exclaimed.

John turned on his other sons, his anger almost tangible enough to touch.

"I said stay out of this! Both of you! And that means you too Caleb!" John shouted when Caleb opened his mouth to speak.

"Do you want to know why I got in that car Dad? I mean, I know it's been eating at you. How a son of John Winchester could be so stupid and break such a simple rule. Ever since I told Deputy Ridgeway what happened, I saw the disgust in your eyes. You never said anything, but I knew what you were thinking. Your dumbass, screw up of a son got himself into another shitload of trouble!" Sam cried, tears that he had tried to hold in streaming down his cheeks.

Dean grabbed his arm gently, but Sam jerked away, his wet eyes fixed on John.

"Sam..." John started, the outburst shocking him into near silence.

"NO! Let me finish. I had two choices, Dad. Either get into the cool, air conditioned car or stay out in the heat and die of heatstroke and dehydration. I suppose I should've chosen the latter. I probably would have become delirious and wound up wandering into the desert. My body would probably not be found, but at least you wouldn't have had to suffer the embarrassment of your weak son becoming what I've become. I know what you think of me, Dad. I see it in your eyes. You say all the right words, but your eyes say I disgust you. That's okay though. I can't even look at myself because I see what you see..." Sam stopped, wheezing slightly as his heart hammered in his chest.

"Sam..." Dean started when his father stood, slackjawed, unable to speak. Sam ignored his brother, continuing his staring match with John.

"I'm sorry I'm such an awful son. I want to be more, but I can't. You'll never see me as an equal of Daniel and Dean. And now, knowing for sure it's my fault Mom's dead, I'll bet you wish Wilcox had killed me. I know I do..."

Before John could stop himself, he lashed out, backhanding Sam across the mouth. Sam stumbled back and would have fallen if Daniel hadn't been there to catch him. Dean rushed forward, grabbing John's shoulders and pushing him back.

"Son of a bitch Dad! What was that for?" Dean shouted.

John looked past Dean, his eyes immediately noticing the trickle of blood that had begun to stream from Sam's lip.

"Oh God Sammy. I'm so sorry..."

Sam looked at his father, his eyes filled with sadness. "I was out here because when Alisa and I were...making out...and she put her hand on my chest...wh-when she touched me, it wasn't her hands I felt Dad. All I could feel, smell, see was Wilcox. I couldn't breathe. I had to get away. I couldn't let him do it again. You wanted to know how I could be so stupid. That's why Dad. And I'm afraid that's how it's always going to be. Whenever anyone touches me, it'll be Wilcox that I feel."

Sam dropped to his knees then crumpled into himself, sobs wracking his body. He felt strong arms encircle him and tried to pull away, but didn't have the strength. A gruff but gentle voice whispered in his ear and Sam immediately tensed.

"Sam, you are so wrong about so many things. When I say I love you, I mean it. When I look at you, all I see is my son whom I love more than anything in this world. You don't disgust me. What happened was not your fault and I'm sorry I made it sound like it was."

John pulled away slightly and took Sam's face in his hands, gently fingering the newly split lip. Sam raised his puffy eyes, searching his father's eyes for the lie he was sure he would find there. What he saw took his breath away. John's eyes were filled with nothing but love. There was no anger, no disgust and Sam realized that maybe, just maybe, he had been wrong. He sat back, ashamed of how he had screwed things up so badly. John immediately saw the self-loathing cross his son's face and tilted it to his, pressing their foreheads together.

"No Sam, don't do that. The only ones you should blame are Wilcox and that...that monster that killed your mother. You are completely blameless. You've been through hell and yet here you still are, living and breathing. You are so strong Sam," John said.

"I...I'm sorry Dad. I shouldn't have said those things..." Sam stammered.

"Shhh...nothing to be sorry for Sammy. I'm the one who's sorry. I should have never lifted a hand to you. You have every right to hate me, but right now we need to get out of here. Now, how 'bout we get you home? I think you've had enough excitement for one night. Oh, and I think we need to have a little talk about making out with girls in dark theaters," John said as he stood, pulling Sam gently up with him.

Sam nodded, a small, sad smile on his face. He allowed his dad to lead him across the park to the Impala. The three others stood silent for a moment before they began to follow.

"What are we gonna do about the yellow-eyed man?" Daniel said softly, not wanting Sam to hear.

Dean and Caleb glanced his way then Dean spoke. "We do the only thing we can right now, until we know what and whom we're dealing with."

"What's that?" Caleb asked.

"Keep that yellow-eyed son of a bitch as far away from Sam as we can."

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**Well, not many more chapters left. I'll probably get those all out tomorrow. Please review!**

**Cindy.**


	36. Chapter 36

**Okay, we're winding down now until I begin to post the sequel. Just two chapters after this one. I hope you enjoy. I'm thinking that for this chapter you'll need lots of tissues.**

**Cindy.**

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Eyes moved frantically under closed lids before the lids sprang open revealing frightened hazel eyes. Sam lay panting in his bed, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned his head and glanced at the alarm clock on the table between his bed and Dean's. The red digits read 2:30 AM and Sam rolled his tired eyes, sighing as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His bare feet hit the cool wooden floor as he stood then he quietly made his way across the room, careful not to wake his sleeping brother.

Sam carefully opened the door and crept out of the room and into the hallway. He headed down the hall toward the kitchen to retrieve some Tylenol, his run-in with the yellow-eyed man leaving him achy and with a headache. As he neared the kitchen he noticed a soft glow coming from the room and slowed his pace, creeping up to the doorway and peering in. John was seated at the table, a can of beer in front of him, a piece of notebook paper held in his hands. The light from the vent over the stove was the only illumination but despite that and John's bowed head, Sam could see that the man was softly crying.

Sam contemplated whether to continue into the kitchen or turn around and go back to bed. His father's gruff but soft voice reached his ears and he held in a breath as he listened to John's words.

"Oh Mary, I've hurt our baby so much. I don't know why I am so hard on him. So much more than Daniel and Dean. I'm just so afraid for him. He's got such a gentle nature and with what's out there, I...I'm afraid that that'll get him hurt, or killed. I love that boy with all my heart Mary, and I'll do anything to protect him, but he fights me tooth and nail on everything. I don't know how to help him now, with what he's going through. He's so much like you Mary, it hurts to look at him sometimes. I just...I..." John trailed off, his voice cracking with emotion.

Sam closed his eyes, overcome with emotion at what he had heard. He felt guilty for intruding on what should have been a private moment for his dad. He took a deep breath, then walked sleepy eyed into the kitchen.

"Dad? What are you doing up?" he asked innocently as he reached into the cabinet over the sink and pulled out the bottle of Tylenol.

John flinched slightly as Sam entered the room, but quickly regained his composure. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Oh, well...I couldn't sleep. A lot on my mind I guess. What about you? Are you okay?" John asked worriedly as he noted the pill bottle Sam was opening.

Sam looked down to the bottle then back at his dad. "Just a headache. Back hurts a little too," he said, shaking out two pills into his palm.

John rose and neared his son, waiting for Sam to wash the pills down before he pulled Sam's face up slightly and inspected the bruises under his jaw. He shuddered as he recalled the terror he felt when the yellow-eyed man grabbed Sam by the throat and lifted him from the ground. He had been unable to move, unable to speak and had felt utterly useless as the man had taunted his baby, then had tossed him away as if he were nothing.

John turned Sam and lifted his tee shirt in the back, wincing at the bruising that had formed where Sam had hit the ground. He lowered Sam's shirt and turned him again so that they were facing each other. John lifted his fingers to Sam's face and gently ghosted them over his swollen and bruised lip, noting the cut that he had put there in a fit of fear induced anger.

"I'm so sorry Sammy. I never meant to hit you. I was just so scared and when you said you wished Wilcox had...killed you..." John said as he stared intently into Sam's eyes.

"It's okay Dad. I'm okay...it doesn't even hurt, and I'm sorry too. Sorry for saying that," Sam replied, flashing a small, warm smile.

John nodded and patted Sam's arm lightly. Sam began to walk out of the kitchen, but John's voice stopped him.

"Sammy, sit down for a minute, will you? I'd like to talk to you."

Sam swallowed nervously as he took a seat across from his father's chair. John sat down and picked up the notebook paper he had been holding when Sam first came to the kitchen. He stared at the paper, his eyes filled with sadness and uncertainty. Sam fidgeted in his chair, unsure of what was to come.

"Is...is that the note I left the night I...the night I took off?" Sam asked timidly.

"Yeah. I was just reading it, wondering how I could let things get so messed up," John replied as he met Sam's warm eyes with his own weary ones.

"Dad...you didn't..." Sam started.

"No Sam. Let me speak. This letter," John said as he laid the paper on the table. "This letter opened my eyes. I never realized how badly I was hurting you. To find out that my son didn't feel loved by his own father, only felt that he was a disappointment. It hurts. And why wouldn't you feel that way? I've been a complete and utter ass to you Sam..."

"Dad, you had your reasons. I haven't exactly been a boy scout here. I'm not a good son like Daniel and Dean..."

"Stop it Sam! I don't want to hear that from you ever again!" John cried as he smacked his hand onto the table, causing Sam to jump in his seat.

Sam stared wide eyed at his father, recalling John's anger earlier that night. "Dad? I'm sorry...I..." he whispered fearfully.

"No Sam, I'm sorry. I just...Sam, you are a good son. Just because you aren't like Dean and Daniel, it doesn't mean you aren't a good son. And there is no excuse or reason to justify how I have treated you. You try so hard to please me and all I do is tell you to try harder. I've never told you that I'm proud of you, but I AM proud of you Sam. I don't know why I can say it so easily to your brothers but I can't say it to you." John lowered his eyes, shaking his head dejectedly.

Sam sat silently, shock keeping him from speaking. He stared intently at his dad, waiting for him to speak again. His father had just said he was proud of him. Sam had never heard those words directed at him before and his heart beat wildly as he tried to digest that he was hearing them now. Tears filled his eyes and he tried valiantly to keep them from falling. When John raised his face and Sam saw tears in his eyes, he lost his battle and let the tears spill down his cheeks. John reached over the table and gently wiped the tears away with his fingertips, then softly brushed the hair from Sam's watery eyes.

"Sam, I know you think that your mother's death is your fault, even after we've tried to convince you that it isn't. And I know you think we would all be better off if you had died and not her, but you couldn't be more wrong..." John started.

"Dad, I..."

"Sam, I need you to listen to me," John stated, cutting off Sam's words. Sam blinked, then nodded, allowing his dad to carry on.

"If you had died that night in your mother's place, this family would have been destroyed. You were the final piece to the puzzle. We weren't complete until you were born. Don't you realize that you are the glue that holds us all together? Without you, we fall apart. As badly as it hurt to lose your mom, to lose you would have been a hundred times more painful..."

"But Dad, I was only a baby. You loved Mom for years before I came along. So did Dean and Daniel. You couldn't have loved me as much as Mom..." Sam said, his confused eyes searching his father's face.

John shook his head and gazed sadly at Sam. "When you were born and were handed to me for the first time...when I held you in my arms, you were crying so hard but then you opened your eyes and it seemed that you looked right at me, and you stopped crying like you knew you were safe. You reached out your tiny hand and grabbed my finger so tightly that I didn't think you'd ever let go. In that moment I fell so deeply and madly in love with you, I would have died for you in an instant if I had to, and I had just met you. After six months of every day that love growing, it would have killed me if I had lost you. Your mother would have been devastated. And Daniel and Dean?"

John hesitated a moment, his eyes turning inward as he remembered long ago events.

"Daniel and Dean nearly lost it every time you cried...wanting to know who or what had dared to make their little brother cry. Even then they had taken it upon themselves to be your protectors, your guardians. When you were four months old and had gotten really sick, you had to go to the hospital. You were there for three days and I had to force them to eat and sleep. All they wanted was their baby brother back." John stopped, looking at Sam's sad, expressive face and smiled.

"We can't live without you Sam. Plain and simple. We love you so much, that to lose you would be to lose everything."

Sam sat in stunned silence, the power of his father's words slamming into him like a sledgehammer. He didn't think it was possible that they could love him as strongly as he loved them, but he couldn't deny the truth he saw in his father's eyes. The strength of this new found knowledge staggered him and he felt suddenly lightheaded. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply until the dizziness passed, then opened his eyes to John's concerned face.

"I...I'm okay Dad. I don't...I..." he stammered as he rose from the chair.

John stood and walked to his son, embracing him in his strong arms. He pressed his face into Sam's hair and felt the boy relax into him, Sam's arms encircling his waist and squeezing tightly.

"I love you so much, Dad. I love Dean and Daniel so much too. I'd die if anything happened to any of you. I'm so afraid the yellow-eyed man is going to take you away from me...I couldn't take that Dad...knowing he hurt you...or worse...because of me," Sam muffled into his father's chest.

"Shhh...Sam, don't worry about the yellow-eyed man. We'll take care of him. Nobody's taking us from you, and no one's taking you from us. We're Winchesters, and nobody messes with the Winchesters..." John declared defiantly.

Sam chuckled lightly, pressing further into his father, feeling the safety of John's arms around him. John finally pulled away, taking Sam's chin in his hand.

"You look beat Sam. Let's get you back to bed. You know if Dean wakes up and you're not there, he'll freak," John said as he turned his baby around and gently pushed him through the doorway.

Sam nodded and smiled, allowing John to guide him back to his room and then into his bed. John pulled the cover up around Sam and brushed the hair from his eyes.

"Get some sleep Sam. I love you kiddo," he said affectionately.

"I love you too Dad," Sam replied sleepily.

John smiled and quietly stepped over to Dean's bed, pulling the blankets up before slipping from the room. Sam smiled to himself then turned his head to look at his brother. The moonlight shone through the window, illuminating Dean's face. Sam gazed for several minutes at Dean before softly speaking.

"I love you Dean," he said softly, then turned on his side, his back to his brother, and instantly fell asleep.

Dean's eyes opened and he looked upon Sam's relaxed form. He smiled softly and quietly whispered in return.

"I love you too Sammy. I love you too."

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**What did I say? Complete and utter fluff! LOL I hope you liked that chapter and will let me know. Next chapter to come after I get home later from watching my oldest's first rugby game. Until then.....................**

**Cindy.**


	37. Chapter 37

**Here is the next chapter as promised. Just more gooey sweetness for you all. You may need tissues for this one too. **

**Cindy.**

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**The Same Night-Dean's POV**

Dean woke suddenly, his groggy mind trying to pinpoint what had brought him out of his slumber. He sat up, his eyes searching the darkened room for anything out of place. His gaze fell upon Sam's bed and he jerked fully awake, fear knotting his stomach when all he saw was crumpled sheets and blankets. He forced himself to calm down, reasoning with himself that Sam had probably just gone to the bathroom. He decided to give his brother five minutes before he would look for him.

Dean knew he was being ridiculous but he couldn't help it. The past month or so, capped off with the events of earlier that evening had him perpetually on edge. Seeing Sam with the monster who killed their mother and not being able to do anything to help him had cut Dean to the core. He didn't know if he would ever feel comfortable again when Sam wasn't within sight.

Five minutes passed and still Sam hadn't returned to the bedroom. Dean swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, then headed across the floor to the door. He entered the hallway and crept to the bathroom, immediately noting the darkened room was empty. He strode further down the hall to the livingroom, stopping when he heard voices coming from the kitchen. He neared the kitchen and stood next to the wall, relaxing when he recognized both John's and Sam's voices.

Dean stood there, hidden in the shadows and listened to the conversation taking place. His heart broke as he listened to his brother speak. Sam had no idea how much he meant to his family, couldn't seem to comprehend how much he was loved. Dean wanted nothing more than to rush in and make Sam believe what he was being told but this was John's moment with him and Dean would not interfere. He couldn't help but think that it was about time John opened up to Sam and let the kid know that he was indeed proud of him and that he let him know just how much he loved him.

When he heard his father and brother rise, Dean took that as his cue to head back to bed. He hurried back to his and Sam's room and crawled beneath the covers, leaving them pooled around his waist. When he heard John and Sam enter a few minutes later, he closed his eyes, not wanting them to know he was awake. He listened as Sam got into bed, heard John tell Sam he loved him, and then heard Sam return the sentiment. He lay still as John neared his bed and pulled his blankets up over his chest then listened to him leave.

Dean heard Sam shuffle slightly in his bed and knew without looking that the kid's eyes were on him. A moment later he heard Sam's soft, warm whisper.

"I love you Dean."

Then came the sound of Sam rolling over and sighing before his breathing evened out in exhausted sleep. Dean opened his eyes and gazed lovingly at his baby brother, the moon sending soft glowing light over his shaggy head. Dean smiled softly and whispered his reply before closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep.

"I love you too Sammy. I love you too."

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Sam entered the kitchen, his sleepy eyes taking in the forms of his father, brothers and Caleb all huddled around the table, coffee mugs steaming as the men started their day. Daniel looked up first, a smile breaking out at the sight of his messy haired, sleepy eyed baby brother.

"Hey! Mornin' sunshine!" Daniel chirped as he rose from his chair and went to the oven. "Sit down Sam. We already ate but I kept a plate warm for you."

Daniel pulled a plate from the oven and set it on the table in front of Sam. It was piled with scrambled eggs, hashbrowns and bacon plus a big, fluffy bisquit to top it off. Sam eyed the plate and smiled warmly at his oldest brother.

"Thanks Dan. I'm not really that hungry though," he said as he took a sip of the orange juice that Daniel placed before him.

"You need to eat Sam. You need to get your strength up," John instructed, giving Sam a look that said there would be no arguing.

"'kay Dad. Sorry," Sam mumbled, grabbing a piece of bacon and taking a nibble.

"I talked to the principal at your school this morning and they are not going to require you to make up your missing assignments due to your grades being so good, but you do have to go back in next week and take the final exams you missed," John stated, glancing at his youngest.

"They're going to let me do finals even though school's out?" Sam asked excitedly.

"Yep. I let them know about your car accident and long recovery and they said as long as you can pass your exams, you'll be passed ahead," John said, smiling at his son's excitement.

"Geez Sammy, gettin' all excited about taking tests? Could you be any more of a geek?" Dean teased, chuckling before taking a gulp of coffee.

"If it means not having to go to summer school, then yeah!" Sam replied.

"That's if you pass your exams geekboy...Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you're going to pass your exams. You're the mighty geekboy!"

"Wow Dean, that was...I mean...you came up with that all on your own?" Daniel quipped.

"Hey! He's the geek, not me! I do the best I can," Dean shot back.

Caleb and John sat back, watching the boys with amusement. Even Sam was chuckling, his bright smile making an appearance after being absent for way too long. It made the other hunters hearts swell to see that smile after everything they had all been through.

Caleb leaned forward, his eyes on Sam. Sam looked up, arching his eyebrows when he caught Caleb staring.

"What? Is something wrong Caleb?" Sam asked self consciously.

"Uh...well...I was wonderin'. Are you gonna call that pretty little thing you took out last night?" Caleb said, a bright grin on his face.

Sam's smile faded and he pushed his plate away, suddenly very interested in some crumbs that had collected on the table. The other men eyed him, curious of the reaction.

"Sam? You okay?" John asked his youngest.

"Huh? Uh...yeah, I'm fine," Sam replied softly.

"So, are you going to answer Caleb?" Daniel asked his brother.

Sam looked up, the sadness having returned to his eyes. "There's no reason to call her."

"What? Why not? She's really into you Sammy. You should call her," Dean said emphatically.

"And say what? Sorry I freaked out on you last night and all, but your touch reminded me of the man who tried to rape me? She'd run screaming for the hills," Sam cried.

"Sam..." John started.

"No. She probably hates me now anyway. I went wacko on her and left her at the theater by herself. She definitely isn't gonna want to hear from me."

"I think you're wrong Sam. I think she likes you way to much to just drop you over one little thing," Daniel said.

"One little thing? You weren't there Daniel. You didn't see me completely lose it. It definitely wasn't a little thing!" Sam cried.

"Still Sam. I think you should at least call her," Daniel replied.

"No, I'm not gonna call her! Besides, we'll probably be moving soon anyway. What's the point?"

"Sam...come on..." Dean started.

"I'm not hungry. I'm just gonna go to my room. I have tests to study for," Sam said flatly, then rose and shuffled from the room.

The four older hunters stared after him, the happiness from just a few minutes ago dissapating as the sullen boy disappeared from view. They glanced at each other, shaking their heads sadly before each went his separate way, wanting to get started on the days tasks.

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Sam lay on his bed, books spread around him haphazardly. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts running circles in his head. He desperately wanted to call Alisa, but knew he couldn't face her after last night. He was certain she would tell him to screw off. Well, it didn't matter anyway he thought, as they probably wouldn't be sticking around for much longer. Sam's eyelids became heavy and he slowly fell asleep, thoughts of his failures still fresh in his mind.

Sam was awakened a few hours later by a knock on his bedroom door. He opened his eyes and glanced at the door to see Daniel peering through the opening at him, a smile spread across his handsome face.

"What Daniel?" Sam asked sleepily.

"Uh...you have a visitor kiddo," Daniel replied.

"What? Who is it?" Sam asked as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his bed.

"Just hurry and make yourself presentable," Daniel quipped before closing the door.

Sam sat for a moment trying to figure out who would be there to see him. No one came to mind as no one knew where he lived. He came to the conclusion that his brother was trying to play a trick on him. Sam contemplated just lying back down and going back to sleep, but curiosity got the better of him and he stood, slipping his feet into his sneakers before crossing the floor and opening the door. He strode into the livingroom where his father, brothers and Caleb were all gathered. They all looked at him when he came into the room, Dean's face breaking out in a huge grin.

"So, where's this visitor?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Out on the porch," Dean said, nodding his head toward the front door.

Sam turned his eyes toward the door and made his way to it, stopping to peer through the curtain. His breath hitched when he saw who waited for him there. He turned to his family, his eyes wide.

"It's Alisa! What's she doing here?" he cried as he tried to straighten his unruly hair.

Dean chuckled then walked up to this brother, fixing a few wayward tufts of wavy hair then brushing his hands over Sam's rumpled tee shirt.

"Why don't you go find out Sherlock," he quipped as he opened the door and gently pushed Sam through the screen door.

Alisa turned, a warm smile crossing her face when she saw Sam come toward her.

"Hi Sam. How are you doing?" she asked the confused boy before her.

"Uh...hi Alisa. I-I'm okay," Sam stuttered in reply.

"Sam? Can we talk?" Alisa asked as she took Sam's arm and pulled him to the top step, sitting down on the step and pulling Sam down with her.

"Yeah...sure. I...I didn't think you'd want to talk to me anymore after last night," Sam replied, swallowing convulsively.

"Sam? What happened last night? I was so worried about you when you ran out of there," Alisa said with concern in her voice.

"I...uh...it's hard to talk about Alisa," Sam whispered softly.

Alisa reached out, her fingertips gently pulling Sam's face around until their eyes met. Her eyes were filled with concern as she gazed at Sam.

"Did...did something happen to you in Arizona Sam?" she asked softly.

Sam's breath caught in his throat and his heart thudded heavily in his chest. He turned his head away, his eyes falling to his feet. Sweat broke out on his brow and Sam reached up with a shaky hand to wipe it away. He crossed his arms across his body, hunching over and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Sam, you can tell me."

"I can't Alisa. You should probably just go," Sam whispered, his head hung low, his chin resting on his chest.

"Sam, please talk to me. I want to help. Please?"

"Alisa...I...I'm okay. I just got sick. I'm sorry I ran out, but...it's nothing."

"That wasn't nothing Sam. You were terrified. It was like you weren't even seeing me. I was so scared for you. Please Sam, I want to help. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"Why do you want to know anyway?"

"I care about you Sam. I don't like to see you hurting."

"You barely know me Alisa. You shouldn't waste your time with me. I'm not worth it."

Alisa reached over, grasping Sam's hand in hers and pulling it to her. Sam turned his head toward her, his sad eyes breaking her heart.

"You are more than worth it Sam. I can see something is tearing you up inside and I want to help. Let me help you."

Sam peered at the girl and saw the concern and sincerity in her eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded slowly. He began to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. Alisa inched closer to his side, draping her arm across his back and leaning her head on his shoulder. Sam relayed the events that unfolded in Arizona, leaving out certain aspects of the story that related to the supernatural. By the time he was done, both teenagers were in tears. Alisa pulled Sam closer, wrapping her other arm around him. Sam buried his face in her neck, crying softly as she tried her best to comfort him.

"Shhh. It's okay Sam. Everything will be okay," she whispered softy in his ear.

Sam pulled away, reaching up and wiping the tears away, embarrassment flushing his face. His eyes fell to his feet once more, his hands clasping and unclasping nervously.

"Sam? Look at me, please?" Alisa said as she gazed at the teenager with concern.

Sam turned his eyes slowly Alisa's way and she smiled warmly at him.

"You can go now Alisa. You don't have to stay and feel sorry for me anymore," Sam said sadly.

"Why would I go Sam? You're my guy aren't you?" Alisa asked.

Sam stared at Alisa with surprise. Why would she still want to hang around him? He was damaged and she could have anyone she wanted. Why was she bothering with him?

"Sam? If you want me to go, I will. But I really want to stay. Don't you want me to be your girl?"

"Alisa, you can be with anyone. Why me? And now that you know...uh...I just don't get it," Sam said softly.

Alisa didn't say a word. She reached her hand over and pulled Sam's face to hers. She softly kissed him, her other hand coming up and brushing through his hair. Sam hesitated a moment, then gave in to the kiss. His hand cupped Alisa's cheek and the kiss deepened. A moment later Sam pulled away, gazing in Alisa's eyes. He lent his forehead against hers and the two sat this way for a moment before pulling apart.

"So...am I your girl Sam?" Alisa asked sweetly.

"Are you sure you want to be?" Sam asked, smiling warmly at the girl beside him.

She leaned in again and kissed him softly, then answered. "More than anything Sam."

Sam smiled and wrapped his arm around Alisa's shoulders, pulling her close. They leaned into each other and just sat, staring off across the street, content just to be next to each other. Sam closed his eyes, sighing as he leaned further in to Alisa, the scent of her hair relaxing him. He smiled to himself, a little more weight lifting from his shoulders.

Unbeknownst to the two teenagers, four pairs of eyes watched from behind curtained windows, and four broken hearts mended just a little bit. It would take a lot more than a stolen kiss on the front porch to heal their most precious family member, but the four men knew that he was on his way. The men turned away, smiles on their faces, and left the two lovebirds to cuddle on the step in peace.

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**Well....one chapter to go. I will have a brief description of the sequel at the end of the next chapter. Reviews are love!**

**Cindy.**


	38. Chapter 38

**Well, here it is. The final chapter. It's been a long road, but you all have stuck with me through it all. I truly appreciate all of the readers and reviewers. You've made this a wonderful experience. I hope you enjoy this final chapter. Don't forget to read the brief description of the sequel at the end of the chapter. Thanks!**

**Cindy.**

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**Epilogue**

**Santa Cruz-Winter**

"Get a move on Sam! You're gonna be late!" Dean hollered down the hall. He shuffled nervously from foot to foot, waiting for his little brother to appear.

"Dean, get in here and give your brother some space," John said gruffly, amusement adding a twinkle to his eyes.

"I swear Dean, you're more nervous than Sammy," Daniel quipped. He chuckled lightly as he watched his spike haired brother pace at the hall entrance.

"What's taking him so long?" Dean asked as he glanced at the clock on the wall.

"He's got time Dean, calm down," John said from his seat on the sofa. He shook his head, but couldn't deny his own nervousness.

The three older Winchesters perked up when they heard Sam's door finally open. They waited for the boy to emerge, and all broke out in chuckles when an exasperated looking Sam huffed into the livingroom.

"I can't get this damn tie right!" Sam cried with annoyance.

John rose from the sofa and strolled to his son, a grin curling his lips.

"Here Sammy, let me do it," John said as he began to fix the off kilter job that Sam had done.

"Thanks Dad," Sam said softly, raising his chin slightly to allow his father room to work.

"All done," John quipped as he patted Sam on his shoulder.

Dean and Daniel descended on Sam, straightening this and smoothing that. They turned him around, inspecting every aspect of his attire to make sure everything was in place.

"Will you guys knock it off! Geez, next thing you know you'll be spitting in my hair!" Sam cried indignantly as he softly pushed the hands of his brothers away.

"Well, now that you mention it, there is a spot that needs some fixing," Dean said, licking his fingers then reaching for Sam's head.

Sam slapped his hand away, grinning brightly. "Deeeean! Quit!"

"Okay, okay. Take a chill pill dude!" Dean quipped, his grin widening.

"I wish Caleb could have been here to see this. Too bad he had a hunt to take off to," Daniel said absently as he eyed his baby brother with pride.

"Alright, stand back Sam and let us get a look at you," John said as he pulled Dean back.

Sam stepped back, his face flushing with embarrassment at the close scrutiny of his family. He shifted on his feet as the three older hunters looked him over. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, his sapphire colored tie standing out over his charcoal gray dress shirt. His unruly hair was somewhat tamed, but the wavy mass could never really be fully controlled. Daniel picked a camera up from the coffee table and took aim at his little brother.

"No! No pictures! Come on..." Sam whined, to no avail.

"We gotta get pictures Sam. Caleb is gonna be pissed if there aren't any pictures for him to see. Besides, we won't have anything to blackmail you with in the future," Dean quipped.

"Screw off Dean!" Sam cried.

"Okay boys, that's enough. Just a few pictures Sam and then we'll go pick up that girl of yours," John said.

"Fine, but you guys better not embarrass me when we get to Alisa's house," Sam chastized, the grin on his face belying his true feelings. He couldn't remember ever being this happy. He had the best girl in the world, and the best family one could ever hope for. Life was finally good for Sam Winchester, and he was going to savor every last second of it.

Once pictures were taken, the Winchesters loaded into the Impala and headed off to pick up Sam's date for his schools Winter Formal. They pulled up outside the modest house and they exited the car then headed up the walk to the front door. Sam knocked and a few moments later the door was answered by a tall, smiling man with the same blue eyes as Alisa.

"Sam! Good to see you," the man said as he clapped Sam on the shoulder.

"Nice to see you too Mr. Chambers," Sam replied politely.

"Come in, come in," Mr. Chambers remarked, standing aside to let Sam and his family pass.

A striking woman with jet black hair entered the foyer, a broad smile adorning her face. She approached the group and stuck out her hand.

"You must be John," she said as she lightly took John's hand. "I'm Elaine, Alisa's mother."

"It's nice to meet you Elaine. These are Sam's older brothers, Dean and Daniel."

Elaine Chambers shook the brother's hands, who each nodded in return.

"Well, now I know where Sam gets his good looks from. My, my what a handsome bunch you are," she said with a widening smile. "Did you meet my husband?"

"We haven't been formally introduced, no," John said.

"Oh, sorry," Sam said sheepishly. "Dad, Dean, Daniel this is Phillip Chambers, Alisa's dad."

The men shook hands then the Chambers led them to the livingroom.

"Alisa should be down in a minute Sam. And I must say, you look very handsome tonight," Elaine remarked.

"Thank you Mrs. Chambers," Sam replied, his face reddening.

"Now Sam, we've already discussed this," Elaine chastized.

"Oh...sorry. Elaine." Sam said sheepishly.

"That's better. Now, I'm going to check on Alisa," Elaine said as she left the room.

"John," Phillip started. "I just want to compliment you on your wonderful son. He is the most polite and respectful boy Alisa has dated. My wife adores him, and I know I never have to worry when he is with my daughter."

"Thank you Phillip," John replied proudly, glancing at his red faced son.

Dean and Daniel beamed as they looked upon their baby brother. Suddenly Sam's face brightened, his mouth falling open and all eyes turned in the direction he was staring. Sam smiled brightly, his dimples deepening as he approached the girl who entered the room. Alisa sparkled as she looked at Sam, her sapphire dress matching her large eyes.

"Alisa, y-you look b-beautiful," Sam stammered as he took the girl's hands in his.

"So do you Sam," Alisa replied, her smile brightening further.

"Okay kids, let's get some pictures so you can get to the dance," Elaine said.

The teenagers pinned the corsage and boutinierre on each other then posed for countless pictures before they finally were ready to leave for the dance. The group walked to the Impala, the three older Winchesters saying goodbye to Alisa's parents then crowding into the front seat. Sam opened the backseat door and helped Alisa in before climbing in after her.

"Have fun kids," Phillip said as he leant his head into the back of the car.

"We will Daddy," Alisa replied happily, grabbing Sam's arm and holding on tight.

Phillip closed the door and he and his wife waved as the Impala pulled away and headed down the street.

The group pulled up to the school gym doors, John behind the wheel of the Impala. Sam opened the back door and climbed out then reached his hand in and helped Alisa out. The three older men exited the car, beaming proudly at the young couple.

"You two have fun tonight, and take care of each other," John said as he gave Sam a gentle hug.

"We will Dad. Thanks," Sam said softly.

Dean sidled up to Sam's side and whispered in his ear. "I have my phone on me Sam. Call me if you need anything little brother."

"Thanks Dean. I'll be fine," Sam answered back, knowing his brother was nervous about leaving him.

"I know that Sam...I-I just thought you might be nervous or something," Dean said, coughing to cover the hitch in his voice.

Sam smiled knowingly and gave his brother a quick hug. "I'll be fine Dean, I promise."

Daniel stepped in and patted Sam's shoulder. "Have fun kiddo! And no disappearing under the bleachers young man," he said, smiling broadly.

"Daniel!" Sam whined, his face flushing.

The three men sat back against the hood of the car and watched as Sam and Alisa walked to the gym, their arms wrapped loosely around each other's waists. John smiled, content with his decision to make Santa Cruz his home base in order to allow Sam the time he needed to heal, both physically and emotionally. He didn't know how long they would remain here, but he knew Sam still had a ways to go and he would give his son everything he needed to get there. Sam deserved that and so much more and John was determined that he would not fail him again. He vowed that Sammy would always come first.

**THE END**

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**So, that's it. Once again, thanks to each and every one of you. I know that this story was hard to read at times, but you stuck through it. I hope you'll come back and read the sequel, which I will begin posting soon. Maybe even the first chapter tonight. Following is a description of The Apple Doesn't Fall Far:**

**The Winchesters thought that Michael Wilcox was the worst possible human threat to their family that could exist. They were wrong. When a new evil threatens their youngest member, will John, Dean and Daniel be able to keep Sam safe? Or will they finally lose him forever? This story contains scenes of extreme violence against a minor. **

**I hope you all will join me for the sequel. It is a complete story and I will be posting at least one chapter per day. **

**Cindy.**


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